


Trapped In Legends

by comebackjessica



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Tommy Shelby, Brilliant Daughters, Disaster Gangsters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Found Family, Good Father Tommy Shelby, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, LGBTQ Themes, Lots Of Comfort I Promise, M/M, No Lesbians Die, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polly Is The Strongest Shelby, Sad Tommy Shelby, Strong Female Characters, Tommy Shelby Has a Daughter, Tommy Shelby Loves Alfie Solomons, Two Gay Dads And A Badass Daughter, idiot husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebackjessica/pseuds/comebackjessica
Summary: Tommy Shelby struggles with the fact that he can’t really control his daughter. Then again, why is he so surprised since there never was one person alive who could fully control Tommy Shelby himself?UPDATE: now with the entirely self-indulgent epilogue!
Relationships: Tommy Shelby & Original Female Character(s), Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to preface this by saying it was requested by another brilliant Anon on my tumblr, I wrote their idea and then I just kept going until I stopped sleeping entirely and ended up with this opus magnum. I really hope you enjoy this — it's honestly my very best work.

#  Part 1

It was close to midnight and the club was stuffy as hell. Nellie Shelby didn’t care, though; there was a handsome man dancing with her and she was at her fifth (seventh?) gin and tonic. Life was great. Granted, she wasn't really that much into the jitterbug — that’s what most men tried to accomplish with her on the dancefloor — but this one was different and she was actually having fun. He was an excellent swing dancer, and  _ oh.  _ Nellie could swing, all right. She could swing like nobody’s business.

Her friend Lottie was shooting her  _ looks  _ from the opposite side of the dancefloor but Nellie paid her no mind. The handsome guy had his hand on her waist, the band was loud, and for the first time in forever, she felt like a normal fucking person. 

Lottie called her and beckoned Nellie to the bar after the song ended and she obliged because  _ why the hell not.  _ Let’s have a drink! Her heart was racing and she finally felt like she was actually  _ living.  _

“Another one, luv?” Lottie’s fiancé, Fred, asked and Nellie let out an amused laugh. 

“Yes!” She nodded and took out a cigarette from her elegant purse. 

The evening was just what she needed after having been stuck for so many months with the issues and the drama of what could only be summed up as:  _ the family business.  _

Fred paid the bartender and Lottie pushed the drink towards Nellie, then put her arm around her, watching her friend’s face carefully.

“None of that glum, chum!” Lottie shook her pretty blonde head, managing to get Nellie out of her thoughts and back to reality. “It’s our night! You deserve it, after being cooped up like a slave with your crazy daddy in that mansion of yours.”

“Don’t call him that,” Nellie said softly and took a few large sips of her drink. With a cigarette in her hand and a fashionable dress, she almost felt ordinary. 

_ Almost.  _

Lottie laughed then and proceeded to tell Nellie a story that she was really half-listening to. She felt strange. Something was off, despite the pleasant company she was in, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then, she glanced away from Lottie for one second and even though she was tipsy, Nellie noticed that the band somewhat stumbled into the next bit of the song. After a few verses, the singer grew uncomfortably quiet.

Something was definitely wrong. Cigarettes weren’t the only thing in her pretty purse and after Nellie’s instincts kicked in, her hand immediately closed around the handle of her knife.

“Oh, fuck, shit, holy Jesus…” Fred said then and pointed both of the girls towards the main hall of the club. And there it was…

Despite the dancing room being stuffy and hot, Nellie suddenly felt cold. 

There, right next to the fancy palm tree and the blissfully oblivious couple in the middle of a kissing session, stood her father and her uncles, with their unmistakable caps and the dark coats that Nellie would know anywhere. 

“Oh, fuck me.” She let go of her knife and downed the drink before her in one go. 

“What do we do?” Lottie looked around, always the first to come up with solutions. Nellie loved her friend for it. “There is no other exit.”

“No, there isn’t,” Nellie said, suddenly tired and overwhelmed.

The Peaky Blinders made their way towards the bar then, pushing aside those people that weren’t watchful enough to get out of their way. All of a sudden, Tommy bloody Shelby was right there, standing beside his daughter as her uncles followed soon after. 

Tommy didn’t even acknowledge Nellie’s presence with a word. She knew his mind games, though, and turned around to face the bar now, waving her hand at the bartender. The man was vigilant, she noticed at once, and brought around an entire bottle of whisky without so much as a word.  _ No, not for me _ , Nellie realized. It was a gift and acknowledgement to the mighty Peaky Blinders. 

Arthur grabbed that immediately and took a swig. Nellie scoffed and lit a cigarette, which was momentarily snatched by her father. She gave him a sharp glance but still, he watched the alcohol shelves in front of him and ignored her completely.

She checked the scene next to her then, to keep an eye on her friends. Her Uncle Arthur stood by Fred’s side and smirked at him in that dangerous way of his. Out of politeness, Fred just nodded, eyes wide, and held Lottie’s hand in his. Nellie noticed the tight grip and felt like apologizing to both of them. The other uncle, John, grinned at Lottie and Nellie noticed her friend giving him a scowl.  _ Good girl, Lottie. _ It would’ve made Nellie laugh if she wasn’t so goddamn angry at her family.

People watched them now, and Nellie noticed they were keeping their distance. She glanced behind her, judging the way to the exit. Uncle John put his hand on her shoulder then and she sighed. Probably wouldn't make it. 

“Eleanor,” her father called by her full name, in that dark monotone of his. Despite the music and the chatter returning to the dance room, everything went quiet in Nellie’s head. Her father could always do that to her somehow. It felt like a spell he had cast to pull her right in into his bloody agenda. 

“I thought I told you to stay at the house tonight.”

“She’s not your goddamn slave,” Lottie barked immediately, her expression determined and furious. Nellie turned towards her and shook her head, as Fred’s face went pale. Arthur made a point then to brush his coat aside at the waist and reveal his gun holster to Lottie. Nellie clenched her teeth in anger at the implication, while her friend, fearless as she was, still shot daggers at Nellie’s father. 

“Lottie, don’t,” Nellie said quietly and John sneered at that a little bit.

“Yeah, Lottie.  _ Don’t _ ,” he mocked her but the underlying threat was somewhere there in that statement, too.

“Let’s get your coat,” Tommy decided and put out the cigarette right there on the bar. Entirely used to his means of intimidation, Nellie pretended not to notice. 

“She’s not going, she’s a goddamn adult!” Lottie exclaimed and Nellie grabbed her arm then, a bit tighter than she wanted to. Lottie winced and shot her a baffled look.

“I love you,” Nellie said, making a point to look straight into Lottie’s eyes. “I had fun. But I’m tired.”

“Bullshit, Nell!” she scoffed but it was obvious she got the message. Nellie meant what she said, Lottie was her best friend in the entire world and she’d sooner die than let something happen to her, or Fred for that matter.

“Good night, Fred,” Nell said, voice forcefully calm and quiet.

Fred nodded and then looked at her uncles one last time before putting his arm around Lottie. 

“You be safe, Nell,” he said and pulled his fiancé back towards the dancing crowd. 

At the same time, Tommy turned the other way and without so much as a word or a glance, he started to walk towards the exit.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said then and embraced his niece protectively, though still clutching the whisky bottle in his other hand. John stepped aside to, unmistakably, get one last look at Lottie, before he followed them.

Nellie got her coat from the man working the cloakroom with the Peaky Blinders behind her, watching the guy’s every move. She tipped him, trying to say sorry. He took the money with trembling hands and nearly bowed. She sighed and let her Uncle John help her with the coat before she exited the club after her father. 

The road back home was tense but she never expected anything else. Her father was in the backseat with her, looking out the window and smoking. The silent treatment was familiar, but somehow still made Nellie feel on edge. He seldom yelled in her presence, she knew that, and even more rarely would he ever yell at her directly. She honestly wished sometimes that he did. His quiet brooding was so much worse.

Very unlike their brother, her uncles bickered incessantly throughout the whole ride. John was the one driving and Arthur, now finished with the whisky, kept giving him unnecessary advice about it. 

“Would you shut up, man!” John exclaimed for the zillionth time, before taking a sharp turn towards an obscured pathway that led to straight to the Arrow House.

Nellie hated that house. Most of the time, it was just her and her father there, surrounded by his ghosts and his goddamn moods, being waited on by faceless and resentful staff. Nellie knew quite well what they thought of him and their family, though sometimes she had the feeling they pitied her. This made Nellie hate them and the Arrow House even more.

John parked the car violently, nearly giving everyone whiplash. Tommy threw his cigarette out the window then and exited the car first, slamming the door behind him. Without as much as a word, he walked towards the house. Nellie’s uncles got out of the car as well, which gave her pause, until she realized they weren’t coming in. They wanted to say goodbye to her. 

Arthur opened the car door for her and she exited slowly, trying to at least look composed. She must have done a poor job, though, or maybe it was just the whisky, because Arthur hugged her closely and mumbled his goodnights like it was going to be their last. In turn, John put both hands on Nellie’s shoulders and smirked at her wickedly.

“Don’t you be running off again, Nell. One more panic fit and your ol’ daddy’ll breathe his last.”

She knew John was joking, it was that special way of his to try and comfort her, but something about his words enraged her. In that moment, though, she hated her father and not them, so she just nodded and squeezed John’s hand.

“Goodnight,” she said quietly and turned towards the dreadful place she was forced to call home.

As expected, when she entered the house, her father was nowhere to be seen — probably already in his office or his ridiculously large bedroom, sulking in his ridiculously large bed. Nellie dropped the shoes and the coat in the main hall, not even bothering to pick them up or put them in place. Fuck this house and fuck the staff, they can reap the fruits of her anger if her father wouldn’t even bother to care enough to confront her.

She went to bed but couldn’t sleep for the longest time. She tossed and turned nearly until sunrise, at which point she decided it was pointless to try anymore. She quickly got up and made herself presentable. Not really feeling like eating her breakfast in silence by the absurdly large dining table, she decided to skip it entirely. She sat at the edge of her preposterous four-column bed and pretended to think about the next steps, but she already knew how she wanted to spend the early morning. Her riding clothes were calling to her from inside the wardrobe.

The stables were the only thing Nellie liked about the mansion. They were fancy, of course. Her father seemed to have an inclination for that these days. There was something about having her own horse, though, that she couldn’t quite name, but it was definitely excitement’s close cousin. 

When she entered the building, her eyes automatically focused on her father’s horse, Villain. He looked at Nellie, _ the intruder _ , and she nodded politely, as if she were a guest in his house. She never thought about animals as “it,” especially not about Villain. He was a gorgeous black stallion of a foreign breed, with a wild temperament and the eyes that dared anyone to come closer and try his patience. Nellie always thought it was a very fitting name and a very well-matched pair, her father and him. 

“Hello, Dauntless.” She approached her horse and smiled when Dauntless snorted at her, in a way that resembled a cheerful “Good morning!”. At first, Nellie wanted to name the horse with the name of the character from her favorite novel, but the ever superstitious Tommy Shelby was adamant and said she shouldn’t.  _ Bad luck to give them people names _ , he said. Mindful of whichever ancestors, ghosts or demons her father wanted to keep at bay, Nellie opted not to argue.

“Yes, hello.” She carefully prepared Dauntless for the ride, all the while talking to her like to an old friend. “Wanna get out of here and tell me about your evening? Mine was horrible.” Dauntless was way too eager to get out of her box, which made Nellie giggle a little. She understood. Getting as far away as possible from the Arrow House was her own greatest fantasy of all. 

As she walked Dauntless out of the stables, she was surprised to spot her father nearby. But there he was, apparently burdened with insomnia just like his daughter. He was smoking on his way towards the stables, but Nellie noticed he was neither dressed for business, nor riding. He spotted her then and threw the rest of his cigarette away almost angrily. She took a deep breath and held the reins closely. Dauntless spotted the change in Nellie’s mood immediately, like the expert she was. She moved her hind legs a bit, huffing, as if she were annoyed. 

It seemed that the great and proud Tommy Shelby still didn’t want to speak with her, Nellie thought, because once he reached her, he just stood there. Contemplating. She wanted to cry and scream but said nothing. No muscle moved on her face. They both looked perfectly alike in that quiet stance she was sure she had inherited from him, along with his stubbornness and the big blue eyes.

“I’ll join you,” her father finally said, to Nellie’s utter astonishment. He walked past her towards the stables. As soon as he entered, she heard Villain greet his favorite person loudly. She couldn’t help but smile a little bit at that. Nobody could get this much affection from him, except her father. 

She could move along, she realized; the cruel streak in her whispering softly inside her head. She could mount Dauntless right now and gallop away in seconds; hurt her father’s feelings. Shut him out and punish him. 

But then again, she couldn’t. She took another deep breath and hugged her horse closely, who at this point would surely roll her eyes at Nellie if she could. This was the only common ground between her and her father that she had left. If she loses that, there would be no coming back. As deep and as strong Nellie’s feelings tended to be, she knew her father was exactly the same. 

He came out of the stables quickly, murmuring to Villain in the only language the horse knew. Villain would take no commands in English. 

“Go on then,” Tommy mounted his horse expertly and nodded at his daughter to hurry up. She could swear she almost saw a smile there but dismissed that thought quickly. She decided to show off a bit now and gave Dauntless a sharper command than strictly necessary. Eager to get out of the premises as much as Nellie, Dauntless galloped towards the main gate. 

This time, Nellie was sure of it. She could hear her father’s laughter behind her, clear as day. 

They raced together towards the obscured forest path that would lead out towards the hills. It wasn’t the easiest track exactly, but nothing really challenging for the two of them. Once out of the forest, Nellie had to slow down and let her father catch up. He did so quickly, she soon heard Villain’s unmistakable heavy trot. 

“You’re getting faster than me, Nell,” her father said, as he patted Villain affectionately on the neck.  _ Of course.  _ Why would he look at his daughter if he could be busy with the damn horse? 

“Is that pride I hear?” she asked, in a tone slightly more hostile than originally planned. How could she cope, though, with a parent that withheld affection from everyone except his goddamn pet?

“Of course it is,” he said now, voice kinder and eyes somewhat softer. 

He finally looked at her and this time, the tears came before she could stop herself. She looked away and clenched her teeth, trying to wish them away. When he would speak this way, she realized just how starved for his affection she really was. 

“Funny way of showing it,” she said, trying to calm her voice. She grabbed the reins a bit tighter and Dauntless responded immediately, trotting gently forward. Villain neighed impatiently and followed them without his master’s permission.

“Eleanor,” Tommy called behind her. She recognized the irritable tone at once. He was not used to people disobeying him.

She stopped the horse and let her stand still. She closed her eyes and dried them with her sleeve, feeling composed enough to resume talking. If one could even call this exchange that… But this is how it’s always been, at least until that dreadful mansion and the rapid business expansion — it used to be just her and her father against the world.

Villain huffed in exasperation and nudged Dauntless affectionately behind her ear. Tommy chuckled slightly at that and then looked right at Nellie, his eyes unreadable. He said something to her then, the only phrase in their people’s language that she remembered from her childhood.

“Yeah,” she sighed, hearing that. “But then you lock me up like a goddamn madwoman in the attic.”

“Because it’s not safe—” he stopped himself and focused back on the horses. “You won’t be safe out there,” he spoke slowly now, like to a child. “Not without my protection.”

“I’m seventeen years old,” she protested.

“And if you were sixty-seven, even…!” He sighed. “Actually, that would probably be worse...”

She smirked at that, amused by the thought. 

“I meant what I said,” he tried again, this time almost pleading. She looked down and shook her head. She held so much power in this moment, so why did she feel so damn helpless?

Probably because she knew she would never use it. She could crush him now, say something cruel and sever all ties. That was no option, though. Being motherless  _ and _ fatherless would be dreadful.

“I know you did,” she agreed but still refused to look at him. 

_ You and me together. _ That’s what the phrase meant. He’s been saying that to her long before she was old enough to comprehend the meaning.

“You  _ are  _ me, Nell,” he said then and this is when she finally snapped out of her stupor. Their eyes met and this time his face was stern. Not angry, though — determined. 

“You think so,” she said, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “But—”

“I  _ know  _ so,” he said, tone even lower. “But you were never drafted. And you do have a father... As shitty as I am at that part.”

That… that honestly gutted her a little bit. Did he mean that? She was sure this was the most open he had ever been about his feelings in his  _ life _ . 

“You’re not exactly the champion,” she said quietly but smiled at him. The relief she saw in his eyes nearly crushed her soul to pieces. She knew who he was. And she knew  _ how  _ he was. She just wished it could have been back to the way it was — him actually  _ being  _ there, not locked up somewhere in the haunted castle he bought for them both to be miserable in.

“Well, your mother made that choice for us,” he sighed and reached into his pocket but came up empty. He made a point of never smoking when riding with Nellie, although she had no idea why.

She never could come up with a good enough answer to his thoughts about her mother, as they occurred entirely too rarely for her to get used to them. She had no actual memories of that woman, she just knew she left when Nellie was still an infant. And that they supposedly looked nothing alike, which… seemed like a comforting thought. After all, Nellie’s upbringing had been a collective effort of all the Shelbys. Her mother didn’t deserve to imprint any resemblance on her.

“Well, then  _ fuck her  _ for leaving us,” Nellie said angrily, before she could stop herself.

She honestly expected many reactions, as over the years she got the feeling that her father did what he could to preserve her mother’s image in Nellie’s good favor. What she didn’t expect was a chuckle.

“Well, she could be a bitch, I suppose,” Tommy said softly and smiled at his daughter. It was one of those smiles she rarely saw on him. She suddenly realized she was now close to his age when he became a father. It seemed unreal.

“Like me?” she asked playfully.

“Sometimes.” 

He outstretched his hand towards her and she took off the glove, then took his hand gladly. It was warm and steady. He kissed her open palm and looked straight ahead, as if embarrassed for showing this much affection all in one day. 

“You know,” Nellie said, “I don’t think any of your… associates know that I actually exist. Or even if they do, they don’t realize I’m your daughter. I mean—”

Her father hummed and shook his head. 

“One of them does,” he interjected.

“Oh?” Now, this was intriguing. Her father rarely spoke of The Business and suddenly she wanted to know. “Which one?”

“The worst case scenario,” he said darkly. “The unpredictable one.”

“Have I met him before?” 

“You never will.”

It was not a very satisfying answer but she knew his secrecy tended to limit their conversations greatly. 

“Unless he comes to the house,” she remarked and he let go of her hand.

“He won’t. I won’t let him.” 

Nellie nodded, if a little disappointed that his moment of fatherly affection was so short-lived. It was back to angry brooding and silence.

“We could always move,” she said, suddenly feeling bold enough to say it.

Her father stayed quiet for a while. Then, he gave Villain the command and the horse trotted slowly ahead. She had no other option but to follow. This time, it was no race, though. They rode side by side and she hoped there would be more talking.

“You don’t like the house,” Tommy said after some time.

“I detest that house,” she announced before she could stop herself. 

He smirked and shook his head.

“Or you just hate living here with me, admit it.”

“I would love to live with you,” she said in earnest. “I don’t _ actually _ live with you, I live with your staff. I see your maid more than you. An army could live in this house and it would still be too big!”

“Still better than Small Heath.”

“Well, that’s not an example,” she said sternly. “A smaller house with good structure and a sturdier roof would already be an improvement to Small Heath.”

“And heating,” he remarked. “And water. And electricity.”

“Well, now you’re just being fancy.”

He laughed and her heart grew three sizes. She loved making him laugh.

“What I wanted was the stables,” he admitted and she appreciated his honesty. 

“And I’m glad. We would be nowhere without this pair,” she pointed at the horses. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “They’re family.”

_ Alright _ , she thought. This was going well enough, better than she could ever hope. So here goes nothing...

“But they like where they live. And I have a feeling you’re not that fond of that mansion, either. You just wanted to prove something. Now you did. Let’s move.”

He shook his head. 

“And be what?”

“Whatever the hell you want to be. Aren’t you Thomas fucking Shelby?”

They rode in silence after that but Nellie allowed herself some hopeful glances from time to time.

“You could move in with your uncles,” Tommy said, a little resigned.

“Which one?” she chuckled. Now  _ that  _ would have been a disaster. “The one with an army of loud babies, the one who drinks, the one who’s basically young enough to be my brother? Some fantastic bloody choices.”

“Your Aunt Polly, then.”

“Aunt Polly has her own problems. She doesn’t need me to bother her.”

“You’re not a fucking bother, you’re my daughter. And she’s your kin.”

“Why are you getting rid of me?” She grabbed the reins tighter, clenching her fists in anger. “I thought I was in danger wherever I went without you?”

“You’re in danger because of me. And you’re clearly miserable.”

“Because of this damn house!” Finally, she let go of the gentle hushed tones and let her feelings be known. “Not because I don’t—” She looked away and then straight back at him. “I love you because you’re my family. But I also  _ like _ you. You can be funny. And you used to talk to me. And you—”

“Stop.” 

“No! I wish you would listen to me more instead to your own  _ mean blues. _ ”

He looked at her a little worried now.

“How do you know about that?”

“Because you’re the ghost that haunts our halls.” Nellie sighed. “At least in a smaller house, you’d have less room to mope around dramatically.”

He laughed again, but quieter.

“You’re the funny one.”

“Nah, I got it from somewhere, hadn’t I? And it definitely wasn’t Uncle John, then I’d only joke about tits and butts.”

Tommy smiled and cleared his throat, as if to cover up his amusement. 

“Fine.” 

She couldn’t believe it. Was he about to agree with her?

“Smaller house,” he said. “With stables.”

She smiled. “And no ghosts.”

“No, we definitely wouldn’t want that...”

“And no staff!” She suddenly felt bold.

“A maid! Nellie, one maid.” He was almost pleading. “At least.”

“Fine, but not that creeper Frances.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand her.”

“She’s nice enough...”

“Of course you think that, she’s in love with you!”

He looked at her then as if she just announced the sky was green.

“She’s not!”

“Of course she is! You just choose not to see it.”

“Frances is two hundred years old!”

“And you’re still a gorgeous man  _ and  _ she’s a goddamn creeper!”

“Eleanor!”

He was using his stricter tone but couldn’t exactly hide the smile.

“What?” She chuckled. “I was blessed with your looks  _ and  _ Aunt Polly’s intuition. I see things.”

“My looks?” he asked, evidently amused. 

“Yeah.” She gave him a wicked smile, one not unlike Uncle John’s. “Race you back to the stables!”

He won this time because at the end of the day he still had some tricks up his sleeve. Nellie was fine with that because after the talk, she felt elated. Perhaps they’ll be alright, she thought, as she tried to spin happy fantasies in her head, carefully ignoring the factor of her father’s “occupation”. 

That very factor tended to creep up on them, though, and it seemed to have chosen the worst possible moment — again. As they approached the stables together, now back to the calmer pace, Nellie noticed her father tensing. She had a supernatural sense of awareness for his mood changes and immediately wanted to know the reason. She followed his eyes and noticed a foreign black car parked on the driveway. 

“Fuck,” Tommy barked and hastened his horse to pick up the pace. Not wanting to stay behind, Nellie followed. They approached the car and the first thing she noticed was that the driver had a concealed weapon — poorly concealed, and her being sensitive to those, spotted it immediately. She halted Dauntless just in case. Beside the car stood a strange bearded man, dressed head-to-toe in black. He noticed Tommy and, weirdly enough, seemed not to pay any attention to Nellie.

“Tommy!” He exclaimed and raised his cane. This spooked Villain and the horse neighed loudly. Nellie gasped in fear, watching as the horse nearly escaped her father’s control. Thankfully, Tommy was an expert rider and quickly calmed the stallion down.

“Are you insane!” Nellie dismounted Dauntless then and took the reins, approaching the uninvited guest quickly. “You don’t do such things around a horse!”

The man looked at her, entirely perplexed. Then, Villain huffed and Tommy dismounted him, satisfied he wouldn’t get spooked again. He muttered something to the horse, in an affectionate tone that he would sometimes use towards Nellie, too.

“Oh, fuck me, that is one enormous horse you got there, Tommy,” the man said. Nellie wasn't really used to people ignoring her so that behavior was strange enough to pique her attention. 

“Go back to the stables,” her father commanded, ignoring the man entirely. His tone seemed neutral enough to fool most but not his daughter. She knew something was off.

“Ah, so this must be the daughter,” the man said then, his strange eyes now fixed entirely on Nellie. It was honestly unsettling. Was this the unpredictable one that her father had mentioned?

“Alexandra, do as I say,” Tommy used a fake name and she was certain now that despite his face staying perfectly calm, this man right here posed a very real threat. And then she realized… her father probably didn’t have his gun on him.

“It’s  _ Eleanor _ , actually, Tommy, do keep up, sweetie,” the man grunted and looked at Tommy the way Frances sometimes would. This was honestly getting more bizarre by the minute.

“Don’t say her name,” Tommy said, in a properly viscous tone. 

“Why?” the man seemed bewildered at that. “It’s a nice name. Bit unusual, but nice enough, I suppose. Still, right, Tommy, had her name been William or Bob, right, or even Frances…” he gave Tommy a pointed look and Nellie felt her stomach clench.

Was that last one just a coincidence? Possibly… though unlikely. As far as she knew, however, she has never seen that man at the house. Besides, even if someone had told him about Frances, which honestly seemed very far-fetched… why would it matter? Plenty of women were head over heels for Tommy Shelby. Why bring it up between business partners?

Then again, her father was genuinely surprised when Nellie had brought up Frances’ little crush this morning. So the question remained: was this not the first time the strange man visited the Arrow House? If so, what business could he have here before? And why would Tommy lie about never letting him come here in the first place?

_ He didn’t, though,  _ she realized. He just said he wouldn’t let the unpredictable gangster meet  _ her _ .

“Right, she’d still be your daughter if she was bloody Adam, now wouldn’t she, Tommy? It’s ‘cause of these eyes, mate, yeah,” the man finished his rant then and hummed. “Hm. Pretty, ain't they?”

He was looking at Tommy when he said that. Nellie dared to look at the driver again but he was still inside the car, poorly concealed gun and all, reading a newspaper as if all of this was just a Sunday afternoon in the bloody park.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” Tommy said, calm enough but stern. 

“I’m not, though, am I?”

_ What the hell was going on _ , Nellie wondered. Nobody spoke after that last statement but the tension was now palpable. 

“Right, we have business, Tommy, you and I, all the lovely eyes aside,” the man huffed then and looked at his pocket watch. “You’ve been gone for some time.”

“I was busy.” 

“Oh, no. Gone from the  _ business _ .” The man waved in Nellie’s general direction. She really wished he would stop doing that. “The father-daughter thing, mate, now that is sacred, innit, wouldn’t dare to interfere, that’s your  _ other  _ business. It’s ours I’m talkin’ about.”

“My other business?”

“Yeah. The other business, right. People can have more than one, you know, you nutcase.”

Nellie looked at the man now with utmost dread.  _ Nobody  _ talked to Tommy Shelby like that. Nobody. 

Her father seemed unaffected, though. He was back to his stone-cold face expression and cigarette-craving eyes. At least, that’s what she thought that hungry gaze was all about.

“Walk with us, Alfie,” Tommy finally said and, leading Villain by the reins, he moved towards the stables. Nellie watched the man sigh but he followed her father, as if unable to say no. She followed behind them with Dauntless then, still bewildered.

Alfie commented on the horses being the same colors, obviously trying to push some imaginary metaphor that Nellie refused to put up with. Her father, on the other hand, seemed to have developed a perfect tolerance for the other man’s ramblings, except when said ramblings dared to speculate about the sensitive topic that was his daughter.

“This is fuckin’ different, now, innit?” Alfie looked around the stables and Nellie huffed, leading Dauntless towards the box. She realized both men were watching her now, as she unsaddled the horse and hung the track along the saddle on the hook on the side of the wall. 

“What?” Nellie barked, her angry glare fixed entirely on Alfie.

“What’s her name?” he asked, instead of an answer. Nellie shot her father a look and he nodded ever so slightly.

“Dauntless,” she said slowly, suddenly feeling a bit silly about it. What was it about the strange man that made her feel so small?

Probably the ridiculously big hat.

“Fuck me,” he barked out a throaty laugh and look towards Tommy’s stallion. “Lemme guess, Tommy, now, don’t tell me, mate… He’s Devil? No! Demon.”

“Villain,” Tommy said and with an utmost state of shock Nellie noticed his cheeks grew a tiny bit pink.

_ What the hell? _

Alfie chuckled and shook his head. “Fuck me, these… as far as names go, right, these are absolutely fuckin’ perfect.”

“Glad you approve,” Tommy said coldly, as Nellie began to groom her horse, if a little bit more absent-mindedly than usual. Dauntless noticed, though, and whinnied in annoyance.

“Strange, ain’t they?” Alfie said, somewhat astonished.

“Us or them?” Tommy asked, now occupying himself with the exact same tasks as Nellie. He was doing a better job at it, though, even distracted like that. Then again, he was the one to teach her all this in the first place. He could probably do this all in his sleep.

“Not sure, mate, not really,” Alfie hummed and leaned back at the stable wall. “So, you got cozy then, mate? That it?”

“In what way?” Tommy asked, clearly uncomfortable to discuss the matter. Or maybe uncomfortable because of his daughter’s presence? Either way, this was the closest she had ever gotten to The Business since she was old enough to understand its implications, and so she listened intently.

“You’re absent, Tom. And we’re all bored.”

Nellie chuckled a bit at that; she couldn’t help it. Both men shot her a look, each in their own way. Did they really forget she was there?

“I mean,” she said, if a bit flustered. “It’s a big house in the middle of nowhere. Evidently, we spend our days chasing the maids around, you see. Not much time to do anything else.”

Tommy looked stunned. Alfie, though, was positively amused. He looked between the two of them and surprisingly said nothing. Nellie felt encouraged to have a bit more fun at her father’s expense.

“Surely, there must be another reason that you came? Besides missing my father’s unparalleled conversation skills?”

Tommy was positively  _ mortified.  _ Alfie, on the other hand, grinned as if the greatest gifts of all straight up landed on his lap.

“Why have you been hiding her all this time, you silly boy?” he waved at Tommy, who just looked away and grumbled. “She’s  _ delightful! _ ”

Nellie couldn’t help but feel a little accomplished at that remark for a second or two before she saw her father’s face and remembered that Alfie could murder them both any minute. This was no ordinary chat.

“Mostly people thought I was a deranged man with a young, pretty wife,” Tommy sighed, finishing the work on his horse. Nellie rolled her eyes a little at that statement, feeling uneasy. 

“Nah, I never thought that,” Alfie said, giving her a quizzical look.

“Why? It’s plausible,” Tommy interjected, if a little dryly.

“Oh, but I’m full of hope, yeah,” Alfie said, fixated again as Tommy brushed Villain in long, elaborate motions. Nellie noticed the movements being a little bit odd and then suddenly the realization kicked in. He must have had a gun hidden in the box. Clever, clever Dad. Of course he did… 

She quickly left Dauntless with a fresh portion of food and water and then approached Alfie, for some reason perfectly at ease.

“How did you two meet?” she asked as she removed her gloves. Now he had to look at her and she noticed he went straight for the eyes again.

“Tommy!” he exclaimed. “How dare she not know the story!”

Tommy muttered something, still pretending to be busy with the horse. Alfie sighed, exasperated. 

“I sent him a very nice telegram, right. Your father's just been shot—”

“I was not shot!”

“Ah, see, he does remember, then.” Alfie looked incredibly amused. Even if he was about to stab her any second, Nellie thought, this was honestly an entertaining chat. 

Tommy emerged from the box then and she realized immediately he was armed to the teeth. His clothes never showed it; she just had a sixth sense about it. She looked back at Alfie and realized he was still watching her, like a bloodhound would watch its catch.

“What?” she said, instinctively trying to shift his attention from her father. 

“I can’t believe, right, that Tommy here bothered to drag your uncles into the business, when he could have just introduced you. Much more interesting, yeah.”

He spoke freely and that gave Nellie pause. 

“Much easier to kill,” she said immediately, noticing her father wincing a bit. 

“Now, why would I do that? With eyes like these, I could make you a very good deal, Eleanor.”

“It’s  _ Thomas  _ Shelby you need to worry about, not me,” she said sharply. “He’s the head, I’m just the eyes.”

Alfie barked out a hoarse laugh.

“She’s somethin’!” He turned towards Tommy who seemed much more like himself now, having a gun closer. “Alright now, Tommy? Got all your knives and guns from that clever hiding place of yours?”

Tommy paused and then nodded like a madman. Nellie honestly felt like in a foreign country without a translator with these two.

“You know,” Alfie was back looking directly at her now and beckoning her closer. “I’m glad we finally met, Eleanor. Feels like a breath of fresh air, that. Do visit us sometime in London, yeah?”

“No,” Tommy said sternly before she could even think of opening her mouth. 

“Right, mate, why not, then? We could have tea.”

“Tea?” 

“You’ve heard of it, I hope, Tommy? It’s a liquid, you’d like it.”

Nellie couldn’t believe her own ears. This honestly didn’t seem like an ordinary conversation, not even between… gangsters slash business partners slash gangsters? They went out of the stables together and once more, she had no other choice but to follow.

“Fine, we can have tea,” her father finally said, back to his low monotone.

“Lovely!” Alfie exclaimed.

“Here,” Tommy interjected immediately. “And we will not be making a habit out of this, eh?”

“Fine.”

Tommy hummed, satisfied, that is until Alfie said:

“So you are coming to London then, next time?”


	2. Chapter 2

#  Part 2

“I really don’t like this, Tommy,” Polly said for the hundredth time today, as she stubbed out her hundredth cigarette. “That man is not to be trusted.”

“We all know that, Pol,” Tommy said as he fixed the lapels of Nellie’s coat. “But we have a deal.”

“Well, now…  _ that’s _ different then,” Polly huffed. “I’m sure he’ll be bloody honorable this time — it’s not like he double crossed you before or something.” 

Tommy smirked at that and nodded at his daughter slightly, deeming the outfit presentable. They were identical in height and he had lent her his own coat for the occasion. It smelled like him still, a mixture of his peculiar cologne and cigarettes.

“And you dress her up like a goddamn Peaky Blinder, Tom, what the fuck!” Polly said, entirely unconvinced. 

“I’m not dressing her up, she chose this suit.” Tommy winked at Nellie and she smiled. 

“Dresses are for parties, Auntie,” she said calmly. “This is business.”

“Christ!” Polly lit another cigarette and looked between the two of them. Something gave her pause then and she went silent for a minute.

“Well, if you cut her hair like yours, too, then you’ll finally have your perfect mini-you, Thomas, wouldn’t that be bloody lovely?” she said in her signature acerbic tone.

“She can cut her hair, if she wants to,” Tommy lit a cigarette and took a few drags. Nellie reached for it then and he moved away, furrowing his brow in annoyance. Worth a try, she supposed.

“Christ almighty, Tom, don’t do this. You’re just using her as bait!”

But he wasn’t using her, not really. They were using each other, in mutual agreement. Her father got the element of surprise with Alfie. It was something he very much needed if he was to insert himself again fully in all the crazy of the business. Nellie, in turn, got to prove something to her father and perhaps finally escape her prison.

“Alright, now,” Tommy stubbed out his cigarette, even though it wasn’t entirely finished. “Nell, when you punch, the thumb goes—”

“Goes outside the fist, yeah,” she interrupted, trying to seem casual.

Polly was having none of that, though, and looked at Tommy now like she honest to God wanted to strangle him on the spot.

“That was a joke, Pol,” he said then, with a dazzling smile.

* * *

The bakery, as Tommy had described it, was a curious place. The smells reminded Nellie a bit of her poor upbringing, which turned out to be a good thing, as it kept her face stone-cold and disinterested. 

Her father was no fool and despite taking some risks with this endeavor, he brought her two uncles and some men with them today. 

“Alright,” Tommy said as everyone exited the car. He lit a cigarette and this time let Nellie have a couple drags. Her uncles still looked puzzled about the whole thing but knew better than to question The Tommy Plan. Well, mostly:

“I still don’t know about this, Tom,” Arthur said, staying very close to his niece. “Motherfucker’s insane, he could’ve Sabini’s men there, he could just—” He sighed under Tommy’s stern gaze. “This can backfire all to fuck, is what I’m sayin’…”

“It won’t,” Tommy said. He took the cigarette back from Nellie and finished it.

“He attacked your kin before,” Arthur said darkly.

“That was before,” Tommy said, whatever that was supposed to mean, “and now is now.”

They all made their way towards the entrance, with identical dark expressions. To Nellie’s astonishment, the crazy baker himself was there to greet them. 

“Shalom, shalom! Welcome,” he said in that bizarre tone of his, before he shook Tommy’s hand. Two men stood behind Alfie, equally silent and with equally poorly concealed guns. Nellie wondered then if perhaps this wasn’t unintentional after all.

“Arthur!” Alfie exclaimed but before he could continue with whatever else he wanted to say, Arthur pointed a finger at him and barked:

“You touch one hair on her head and you’re a fuckin’ dead man!”

After that, they all entered inside. 

Nellie tried not to look around the place too much and keep focused. The men working there paid attention when she and her family walked past, but not because she was a woman — she was a woman who walked together with the Peaky Blinders. 

Alfie led them all towards a larger production hall where the stacks of crates surrounded nearly the entire place. One of them was opened and Nellie noticed bottles. White rum, she realized immediately. 

“Now, Tommy, ehh… this is new, right?” Alfie gave Tommy a strange look and then nodded at his men. Alfie’s own stayed a bit behind and Tommy gestured at his to do the same. They stopped obediently and now all of them eyed each other skeptically at the opposite sides.

Tommy, Nellie noticed, seemed to simultaneously have too little and too much trust in the crazy baker and she honestly had no idea why. Her uncles followed her closely regardless of that fact, though. She didn’t really know the full history there between them and Alfie, but she had her suspicions, judging by how they all behaved.

“Right, so… since it’s just the family, now,” Alfie took one bottle from the crate and opened it. He poured a generous glass. Tommy outstretched his hand in a way that was almost habitual but Alfie turned to his daughter.

“Nah, Tommy, mate, you’re entirely too nice to me these days, I want her to try it. Here,” he gave her the glass and she accepted without a word. She had a split second to think this through because it could turn out exactly two ways. 

One, it was poison and he wanted to punish her father for something in business. Entirely plausible, though unlikely. This was all too much of an elaborate scheme to just poison his daughter in front of him. All three brothers had to leave their guns at the door and Nellie suspected that Alfie probably had a gun on him somewhere, but nobody asked  _ her _ to leave her weapons — which seemed too big an error on the baker’s part to even be an error. She didn’t use a gun, granted, but she could have been. He’d never know. So then this would just leave the second option which was… Alfie honestly wanted her to taste the merchandise? 

Nellie took a sip, trying to keep her face entirely neutral. The rum was a bit too sweet for her taste but entirely acceptable. It was very strong, too, and made her eyes water a bit at the end but she quickly blinked that away.

“It’s sweet,” she said, looking straight at Alfie. She never glanced towards her father once, trying to seem as professional as possible.

“Yeah,” Alfie grunted, and she realized by his tone that he wanted her to elaborate.

“Not bad,” she offered and returned the glass, unsure what more to say. “Thank you.”

Alfie barked out a laugh then and looked at her father. Nellie noticed a very small, very quick smile exchanged between the two. What the hell were they doing? 

“She thanks me, bloody hell,” Alfie muttered to Tommy, visibly amused. 

Tommy said nothing, eyes still fixed at Alfie. John and Arthur looked at each other then at their niece, honestly none the wiser. It was perhaps the strangest exchange between people Nellie had ever been a part of. She supposed, or chose to think, that her father and Alfie were friends after all, perhaps they just couldn’t really show it that much because of their business. That day at the Arrow House, Alfie insisted Nellie joined them for the tea and he was honestly perfectly civil, if somewhat eccentric. He asked her questions, too, and interesting ones. What really surprised her, though, was that he really listened to her answers. Was that the reason that made Tommy seem so strange around Alfie? Were they friends  _ and _ in business together? Was that the big secret?

“Now, this should be more expensive, mate,” Alfie said to Tommy and Nellie realized this was the beginning of their negotiations.

“I don’t see why not, the business is good,” Tommy answered calmly. “I hear it’s worth diversifying the product.”

“Oh, you hear that?”

“Hm.”

“I don’t entirely disagree with your logic there, mate.”

“No need, it’s not mine.”

“That so? You come to my place of fuckin’ business, bringing me other people’s ideas?”

“I said I heard it, though, haven’t I?”

Nellie and John were now looking back and forth at them throughout that bizarre exchange, while Arthur vigilantly surveilled the surroundings. When he wasn’t looking at Alfie, he watched Nellie’s back. Finally, after a little more of that strange bargaining, if one could even call it that, both gangsters shook hands and that seemed to be it. 

“You take care,” Alfie said, as all of the Shelbys and their men took their leave. He was looking directly at Nellie when he said that and, wanting to be polite, she nodded in response.

On their way back to the house, Arthur asked his niece at least seven times if she was okay. She gave him the same answer each time, until after the seventh John roared at Arthur to finally start drinking already or so help him. He parked on the side of the road, switched places with his older brother, and resumed driving for him, while Arthur felt the permission to take a swig after swig from his hip flask.

Tommy didn’t speak, but it was a different sort of silence this time. This was comfortable. After Nellie said her goodbyes with her uncles, her and Tommy entered the house together, nearly hand in hand. She carefully took off his coat in the hallway, although she didn’t really want to. He waved at her then and shook his head, so she pressed the coat tightly to her chest. Tommy looked at her, face unreadable as per usual, but with the sort of smirk that suggested he was content.

“I—” he began, but before he could formulate any thoughts, the telephone in the drawing room rang. From the corner of her eye, Nellie noticed Frances appearing out of nowhere and rushing towards it.

“Mr. Shelby,” she emerged from the room in seconds, blushing a tiny bit. “Someone for you.”

Nellie made a point to look at her father in a way that would suggest her theory about the woman had just been confirmed, but she noticed his thoughts were now entirely elsewhere. He went into the room and closed the door behind him. 

Frances eyed Nellie quizzically for a second, undoubtedly disapproving of the clothes. She raised her chin, meeting the housekeeper’s gaze.

“Yes?” Nellie asked, her tone sickly sweet.

That surprised Frances, alright, perhaps because Nellie had made a point in the past to speak to her as little as humanly possible. Realizing she had to answer something, Frances asked innocently:

“Nothing, Miss, just wondering if your father will be joining you for dinner?”

“No, Frances, I really don’t think so,” Nellie said, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

“Very good, Miss.”

It seemed that her father’s recent outbursts of affection would remain just that: outbursts. Nellie decided not to keep her hopes up for ever getting out of this damned princess tower.

Before she turned around to sulk upstairs, however, the door to the drawing room opened again. She noticed her father had taken his coat and cap off, which probably meant he was staying, but he also had that sort of  _ look  _ on his face that stopped Nellie from anticipating anything pleasant. 

“Nell, I’ll need…” he said but then paused. She realized Frances was still there. The housekeeper left after Tommy gave her a particularly stern look. She nodded then and left them alone. Nellie noticed her father’s shoulders relax a little bit then. 

“You need...?” she asked, her voice back to gentle. Sometimes Tommy honestly seemed like a horse himself; easy to unnerve and impossible to get answers from.

“I’m having guests,” he said. “I want you to take the car tonight.”

“Why? Do you need me to drive you somewhere?” she asked, entirely bewildered. 

He chuckled at that and patted her on the shoulder. 

“Call your friend, Lisa—”

“Lottie.”

“Fine, yeah. Take the car, go see the pictures. Just… no boys, eh?”

This sort of thing never happened before. Ever. Nellie looked at him and he avoided her eyes for some reason, until she finally gave up and put his coat back on.

“You’re going out like that?” He frowned and she laughed at that because out of all the weird things happening today, this was the one that puzzled Tommy fucking Shelby.

“Yes. I like it,” she said. “It’s comfortable.”

He smirked at that and reached into his pocket. He counted a generous number of banknotes before handing her the money.

“For the pictures,” he said quietly. She looked at the banknotes and took the necessary amount, then pushed the rest back towards him. He rolled his eyes a little bit.

“Just take it,” he said but Nellie shook her head. 

“I don’t know what you’re up to,” she said, “but this is too bizarre even for us, so... if it’s a woman you invited over, then I’m fine with it, alright? Just stop being so strange.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher and then just nodded, without explaining anything. 

“Fine,” she said then, a bit resigned. She walked past him towards the telephone and called Lottie. 

* * *

They met at Lottie’s place. She lived in the city in her own flat, one that her dad had bought for her. He was a businessman, apparently owned all the pineapple plantations in Hawaii, or something like that. Nellie never asked, though. That would lead to uncomfortable comparisons of hers and Lottie’s parents and… Well. Obviously, there was way too much to unpack there on Nellie’s end. 

Nellie drove them to the pictures and Lottie talked the whole way. Nellie could honestly kiss her for it, it was such a relief to listen to another human being talk for a while, instead of to her own thoughts just creeping up on her and attacking at her most vulnerable. 

Fred didn’t accompany them this time and Nellie was glad because she knew he wouldn’t have liked the film. He loathed Charlie Chaplin, while her and Lottie thought he was hilarious. It wasn’t even late when they left the theatre, and so Lottie decided they should go to a pub.

“You know they won’t serve us,” Nellie said, as they made their way towards the nearest establishment.

“Oh, they might!” Lottie chirped. 

As they entered, Nellie noticed people giving them both  _ looks  _ and felt a bit uneasy. Granted, she was not the usual sight, the way she was dressed, but damn it, she finally felt  _ right.  _ If a little self-conscious, perhaps. After entering the pub, Lottie returned to her cheerful monologue for a while, but she noticed the shift in her friend’s mood right away. She was a good friend, Nellie thought for the zillionth time this evening. Lottie saw something in her face then and without a warning put her arm around Nellie’s shoulders. Nellie chuckled a bit but leaned into her. 

“Oh, fuck ‘em, Nell, what do they know?” Lottie said. “You’re a cool fuckin’ cat!”

Nellie laughed out loud at that and let her approach the bar first. Turns out, she was right — the bartender sternly declared he wouldn’t serve them a drop the minute he laid eyes on them. Lottie wouldn’t have it, though. She just huffed at him like a mother might at an unruly brat and took out her purse. She looked the man dead in the eye and, all the while keeping the eye contact, she placed a banknote on the bar. Then another. And another. One, two, three, then four, and five, and six, and she just kept going until the man grew red and pocketed the money swiftly.

“What will it be, ladies?” he asked, voice forcibly cheerful.

“Gin and tonics?” Lottie said and Nellie nodded.

Three drinks later, Lottie was comfortably leaning on Nellie in their booth and Nellie smoked Lottie’s cigarettes for her. This is what they did; Lottie would buy them, smoke two at best, and then never finish the pack. Fortunately, she had Nellie to help her out.

“We should go to my place,” Lottie said, after she finished telling another story about her crazy sisters. They were all in America with their father, participating in the family business. Nellie liked Lottie’s stories. She liked listening about her freedom. Lottie’s father bought her the apartment and insisted she would move in with Fred as late as possible. Clever man.  _ Preferably not even after the wedding _ , he would say, to his eldest daughter’s great annoyance. 

“He’s so protective, I cannot stand him sometimes,” Lottie said and sighed, then took the cigarette from Nellie’s hand and took one last drag before stubbing it out. “Let’s go! I have more things to tell you and we’re surrounded by way too many ears.”

Nellie chuckled softly but let herself be dragged out of the pub and into the street. Lottie leaned into her again and they walked unhurriedly towards the car. Nellie had a very strong head and didn’t even feel tired, so she decided against leaving the car on the street. Besides, she knew that despite her father’s newly acquired permission to actually live a little, he wouldn’t be very happy if she didn’t return for the night. She shuddered at the thought of the mess that would bring upon herself — and just after the things between the two of them started to be good again.

She drove to Lottie’s apartment, all the while doing her best to keep the other girl talking. Lottie dozed off for a moment at the passenger’s seat and so when they entered the apartment, Nellie put her coat at the nearest chair and busied herself with making tea. 

“You’re such a goddamn caretaker, Eleanor Shelby,” Lottie said and hugged her from behind, as Nellie lit up the stove. 

“Fuck off,” she chuckled. 

“I don’t think I will, doll,” Lottie sighed and proceeded to watch the other girl’s every move as she prepared the tea for them both. Finally, both sat down at Lottie’s fancy couch and she moved closer, resting her chin on Nellie’s shoulder.

“Another cigarette, hm?” she proposed and pouted a bit, which made Nellie smile. 

“Sure thing,” she lit one from Lottie’s pack and took a drag before handing it to her.

“Hmm, I like you like this, Nell,” Lottie sighed and turned around, pressing her back against the other girl’s shoulder. Nellie closed her eyes and hummed, not really sure what to say. Lottie kicked off her shoes and handed the cigarette back. They smoked in silence, enjoying the peaceful moment.

“Lottie?” Nellie asked after a good minute, a bit unsure if her friend would even answer. Maybe she fell asleep.

“What is it, honey?” Lottie was awake alright, if a little drunk and a little more relaxed. 

Alright, Nellie thought to herself, here goes nothing…

“I want to ask you something. But this is between friends, alright?”

“Oh, fuck, Nellie,” Lottie giggled and reclined herself a bit more against the other girl. “Sure thing, sugar. Ask me.”

Nellie cleared her throat, unsure how to ask this.

“Do you think… there are some men who like men?”

Now, that was an entirely stupid question, she realized, but evidently there was no better way to ask it. And she really needed Lottie’s advice. She was older and more experienced. She also partially grew up in London and then in New York; she definitely knew things.

“Why?” Lottie sat down properly now. “What have you heard?”

“What?” Nellie turned around to face her. “Nothing. I was just wondering.”

“Oh my God, is this about Fred?” Lottie winced a bit and looked down, as if embarrassed. “Nell, whatever you might have heard—”

“Fuck’s sake, Lottie, I heard nothing about Fred.” Nellie shook her head and took Lottie’s hands in hers. “It was just a question. I was curious and you know I have nobody else to talk to about the world. And, well… things. Who am I gonna ask, my father?”

Lottie cleared her throat and squeezed Nellie’s hands in response.

“Oh, good,” she said and then leaned in and kissed Nellie right on the lips. 

For a moment, the world stopped. Everything felt like it was underwater, muffled and heavy. Nellie realized then that she had closed her eyes and when she opened them, Lottie was still right there. She didn’t dream this.

“I’m sorry, sugar,” Lottie said and backed away, her face flushed red. Nellie knew her well enough to see she was bluffing; she wasn’t sorry. She was scared. And they were still holding hands. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Nellie said softly, before she pulled Lottie in and then kissed her entirely on purpose. It seemed like it lasted hours but it was probably seconds. When they separated, Lottie looked even more spooked than before. 

“Oh, fuck,” she covered her mouth with her hand. “Fuck! Nell, I—”

Nellie didn’t know what to say so she just took Lottie’s other hand in hers and squeezed gently. 

“What?” Nellie asked softly, feeling her own cheeks getting red now.

“Me and Fred, we have an arrangement,” Lottie said and cleared her throat.

“Alright,” Nellie replied, already more or less suspecting of what that arrangement really was. 

“No, it’s not, it’s a bloody mess, and now I pulled you into it, and—”

“Lottie,” she squeezed her hands and used her most gentle tone she would only use on her father when he was in one of his moods. “I liked kissing you.”

Lottie looked at her then, bewildered. 

“But you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“I don’t know, you… you like dancing with men. And you and I used to talk about it. You… you had a fella once.”

Oh, yeah. Nellie remembered him now. Seemed very insignificant now, all things considered.

“Well,” Nellie said. “What if I like both?”

Lottie giggled a little nervously and shook her head. “You can’t!”

“And why not?”

“Well, because… Because! Where would be the misery in that!”

Nellie laughed at Lottie’s interpretation and felt like kissing her some more. She leaned in and Lottie let her, her lips responding to Nellie’s immediately. Nellie put her hand on Lottie’s waist and ran her fingers through the blond curls, messing up the updo a little bit. Lottie moaned into Nellie’s mouth and pushed her back onto the couch, trying to unbutton her shirt. Nellie grabbed her wrist then, not entirely sure she wanted to proceed.

“No?” Lottie asked, eyes soft and searching.

“I— I’m not…”

“It’s okay,” she kissed Nellie on the nose and sat up, retracting her hands. Nellie felt a little embarrassed but also relieved. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready for anything more just yet.

“So Fred likes men,” she said and Lottie huffed, lighting another cigarette. Nellie still had questions and was determined to get answers this time.

“Yeah,” Lottie took a long drag and then passed the cigarette to Nellie. She accepted and smoked the cigarette in silence, still thinking.

“And you like…”

“Yeah,” Lottie said.

Nellie hummed and Lottie shot her  _ a look.  _ The other girl chuckled softly at that and basically dragged Lottie by the hair to lean into her again, just like before. Begrudgingly, Lottie accepted the invitation, even if still a little tense. She rested against Nellie’s shoulder and took the cigarette when she gave it to her to finish.

“So… Fred likes only men. Exclusively,” Lottie said after a good minute of silence. “There are men like him, you know. It’s not entirely unlikely.”

Nellie considered this for a second before asking:

“But… how…?”

“How what?” Lottie sat back up, now a little more excited to talk about this. “How do they have sex?”

_ Oh holy Jesus.  _

Nellie must have been extremely red in the face because Lottie burst out laughing.

“Oh dear,” she said, still giggling a little. “I’ll get more gin.”

* * *

Nellie drove back to the house, still mulling over what Lottie had told her. She also couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, which… After all, it wasn’t just one kiss. It was more and she knew she still wanted to explore the possibilities. Perhaps Lottie was right, where would be the misery in liking both men and women? Though Nellie wasn't entirely sure that wasn’t miserable still. First of all, if she ever married, it would have to be to a man. That made her anxious, since at this point the only person she ever wanted to touch and be touched by was Lottie. 

And then, that still left the matter of her father and his secret unanswered. Nellie had more to investigate because she was almost sure he might be… well, like Fred. Didn’t matter if he was, anyway — not to his daughter, but she still wanted to know. Perhaps he had been right after all; perhaps she really was  _ him.  _

It wasn’t even nighttime anymore when she got back to the house. As she parked the car, she noticed the signs of a slowly approaching dawn.  _ Shit.  _ Nellie entered the house as quietly as possible and left her coat and shoes by the door. She still had some thinking to do and so she decided more tea wouldn’t hurt that. She took her jacket off, too, and walked towards the kitchen, deep in thought. As she walked through the door, however, Nellie noticed the light was on, which gave her pause. She entered the room and that’s when she saw him — Alfie fucking Solomons, clear as day, sitting by the table and drinking tea in his underpants, with his shirt unbuttoned. 

He didn’t notice Nellie at first but once he did, he literally froze. She didn’t know what to do and so she just stood there, petrified. They were both silent and probably equally panicked. 

“Fuck,” he said finally. 

Nellie said nothing at that because she couldn’t really gather her thoughts. So… it turned out she was right, after all…? At least that’s what it seemed, though she wasn't exactly prepared to use that knowledge for anything just yet. Also, judging by the way Alfie’s face looked like, it was time for her to take control of the situation. She realised she had to, if she ever wanted to look her father in the eye again.

She approached the table casually as ever. She put her jacket on one of the nearby chairs and then sat down in front of the man, as if this here was just another ordinary morning. It was a matter of business and family, Nellie decided, determined to play this right.

He said nothing more and just watched her with clenched teeth and honest to God  _ scared  _ eyes.

“Can I have some of that?” Nellie asked after a good minute of tense silence and pointed towards the teapot. That gave him pause but he found his composure fast.

“Yeah,” he said quickly and got up to get her another cup. She noticed he knew exactly in which cupboard to look for. He poured the tea for her and passed the cup. She accepted and took a few sips before looking him in the eye again. He was buttoning his shirt.

She waited. The tension between them had to be resolved slowly and carefully; no sudden movements. Fortunately, she was very skilled when it came to guessing the meaning behind other people’s non-verbal reactions. Alfie knew she knew now, about him and her father, this much was obvious. Now, she had the reins.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” she said then, before reaching into her jacket pocket and producing a box of matches and a pack of cigarettes. She offered him one but he just shook his head. Nellie shrugged then and lit her cigarette, knowing full well the man was watching her every move. 

“I kinda expected a gun,” he said finally, nodding towards the chair where the jacket still laid. 

Nellie chuckled at that and took one more drag to gather her thoughts. She deliberately made her voice softer and her movements slower:

“That would be my father, not me,” she said.

She noticed something akin amusement in Alfie’s face then and finally realized that something in him was almost glad this moment happened. She just had to figure out how to tell him that the feeling was mutual.

“I wanted to meet you,” he admitted then, voice soft and devoid of his usual provocative tang.

Nellie understood he must have been talking about their first encounter. 

“Why?” she asked calmly and drank more tea. She had some ideas as to the possible answers but wanted to hear it from him. Make him talk. She’d noticed he was at his most comfortable when talking.

“Because I’m old and foolish, I suppose.”

She chuckled at that and smoked in silence for a bit before fixing her eyes on him again.

“How many times have you been to the house?”

“You mean here?” He scratched his beard and looked down, then poured them both more tea. Even if he had noticed the strange word choice when referring to the Arrow House, he didn’t comment on it. “A couple, yeah.”

Alfie was considerably easier to get answers from than Tommy but still, Nellie realized it would require some finesse to get anything better than a half-truth out of him.

“And before the house?”

Alfie looked at Nellie with an expression that was too hard to read; even for her. He pushed a saucer towards her, noticing the cigarette was nearly finished. She put it out and reached for her cup. She waited, obviously an expert at this game, casually sipping the tea. 

Then, he cracked — to some extent at least:

“My place. Usually.”

She hummed and gently put down the cup. This suggested an affair that was much longer than she had originally anticipated. Clever, clever Dad… 

_ No, that doesn’t sound right _ , she corrected herself. It wasn’t an affair. None of the involved were married, at least… well, she was certain about one of them. As for Alfie, she decided to just ask:

“Are you married?”

Alfie chuckled at that, amused by something that escaped Nellie entirely.

“No,” he said. 

“Why?”

Alfie drummed his fingers lightly against the table. The girl noticed the crown tattoos on both his hands and that intrigued her. Was there meaning behind them?  _ Of course, there must be. _ She knew her father had some tattoos and, though he never told her, she also knew he had the first letter of her name tattooed on the back of his shoulder. She wondered then if Alfie had her father’s name somewhere on his body.

“I will have that cigarette now, yeah,” Alfie pulled Nellie out of her thoughts and pointed towards the pack. She gave him one and lit the match for him. He looked to the side and took a long, fierce drag before speaking again:

“Women aren’t it for me, Eleanor.”

She accepted the information, confirming with herself not to call that an affair after all. She wondered then, how come Alfie knew about her existence in the first place. Did her father slip up? Suddenly, she wanted to know their entire history. 

She realized, though, that Alfie would not spill any more useful information if she just pressed him with the questions. She had to give up something herself. 

“I think they are for me.”

If Alfie was shocked before, now he looked close to completely astounded. He laughed in surprise and took another drag of the cigarette, scratching his beard again.

“Fuck me,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head.

Now he seemed somewhat amused again and Nellie realized the plan was working. She watched him closely and waited patiently, wondering if he would enter the game any further now. She knew her bait was good enough but would Alfie prove to be as stubborn as her father?

“How long have you known about that?” Alfie’s voice was considerably softer when he asked this. 

“Just tonight,” she said with a small smirk. She leaned back in her seat, holding the cup. She raised one eyebrow at him and he chuckled again.

“Bloody hell.” He leaned back too, mimicking her a little. Then, he grunted and rubbed his face but before any of them could say another word, a familiar voice behind them announced:

“Fuck.”

They both turned towards the door, in which Tommy stood, in a state of utter shock and undress similar to Alfie’s.

“Tommy.” Alfie said and Nellie noticed that his tone was both a warning and a plea. 

Tommy looked from Nellie to Alfie and she realized immediately by his eyes alone that his mind must be spinning without control. Immediately inclined to comfort him, she offered a small smile and pulled out a chair closest to her. Taming Alfie’s mind was entirely different to managing her father’s moods. She had to be smart about this.

“Sit,” she offered. 

He stood still for a while longer and then moved towards the chair somewhat mechanically, as if not entirely sure that his body could even accomplish this. Tommy Shelby was not one to take orders, especially not from his own daughter. This told her exactly how bad it must have been now in that tormented head of his.

“Nell,” he said as he sat down, his voice low and nearly ashamed.

“More tea I think, Alfie?” she interrupted whatever speech he might have been preparing and pushed the cigarettes towards her father. This shocked him even more.

“Right,” Alfie stood up and busied himself with the teapot, as Nellie lit her father a match. Bewildered and entirely shellshocked, Tommy took a couple of drags before looking at his daughter again. She noticed a slight tremble in his hand and she put her hand on his shoulder. She left it there for a moment, until she noticed the tremor subside. Alfie entered with the tea then and poured all three a generous cup. Tommy’s had sugar in it, Nellie noticed.

“This,” Nellie said then, gesturing between her father and Alfie, “how long have you been meeting like this?”

Alfie said nothing and sat down with a grunt. She realized he wanted her father to answer this one.

“Two years,” Tommy said finally and Nellie was a bit surprised by his directness.

“Holy shit, am I stupid,” she chuckled, genuinely amused at the thought of them secretly sneaking around like boys all this time.

“I—” her father said but she interrupted him again, now a little drunk with power.

“You know it’s all your fault, right?”

He tightened his lips then and looked down again. She couldn’t torture him long, she realized this, but… This one jab she had prepared, this one he deserved. There was a strong inclination in him to take the blame for everything, however, and she had to act quickly. She felt Alfie’s eyes fixed on her when she spoke again:

“If you hadn’t trained me so well, then maybe I would’ve been a normal girl my age and never came home for the night.”

Tommy looked up and she smiled at him brightly. She heard Alfie physically exhale. 

“Are we sure she’s yours, Tommy? The girl’s entirely too bright for the both of us, mate.”

Attacked from both sides now, Tommy focused on his cigarette and said nothing. Nellie noticed the tremor in his hand was gone, however, and his face a bit less worried.

“Oh, Frances’s gonna be pissed,” she exclaimed cheerfully, which made Alfie snort. She turned towards him then and drank some of her tea, letting her father come around in his own time.

“You know this, too?” Nellie asked casually and Alfie nodded keenly. “Yeah, he’s the only one who doesn’t see it,” she sighed and pointed at her father who now looked just about done with life itself, “probably too busy falling head over heels for you.”

Alfie barked out a laugh and looked at Nellie with the kindest expression she had seen in her life. 

“Why are you fine?” her father finally demanded to know, his tone almost angry. 

“Eh, Tom, calm—”

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” she asked and gently took Tommy’s hand. He flinched a bit but then squeezed hers tighter than ever. 

Tommy looked at Alfie then, visibly requiring support with talking about his feelings. No need, though, Nellie already understood everything from him without having to hear it.

“She loves you, you cunt, she’s your daughter,” Alfie said in exasperation. 

Not satisfied in the slightest, Tommy turned his head towards his daughter again. 

And then she repeated his phrase back at him.

_ You and me together. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will take only one person to comment this and I WILL post an epilogue, PLEASE enable me! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! I think the story's pretty much complete now, with my fav gay disaster gangster dads and their badass daughter living it up, gangsterin' off into the sunset!

#  Part 3 — Epilogue

Nellie parked the car in the garage and slowly made her way towards the house. The night was dark and cold, and the freshly fallen snow crunched under her shoes as she made her way to the main hall. It was probably around two in the morning or even later, but since she didn’t really have to sneak around anymore, she never checked her watch. She left her shoes by the entrance and hung the coat — the one that used to belong to her father until she decided to never give it back to him.

“Hello, Alfie,” she said as she entered the kitchen. She said it before she even saw him, but sure enough, he was there — smoking his pipe and reading a novel. This evening, it was the Russians. Or maybe the Greeks, she couldn’t tell. 

“Aye, good mornin’,” he said, putting down his book and looking at her in pretend annoyance. “You drunk?”

“A bit,” she smiled and sat down right next to him. “Is there any tea?”

He chuckled at that and filled up a cup that he had undoubtedly already prepared for her in advance. This comfortable routine between them had slowly developed ever since that fateful morning back at the Arrow House. Now, each time Nellie would go out somewhere, Alfie stayed up with tea and waited until he was certain she returned home, safe and sound. She cherished that unspoken tradition more than anything else.

“Is he lurking somewhere or did he finally manage to go to bed at a normal hour?” she asked, sipping her tea.

Alfie snorted at that and leaned back in the chair, smoking his pipe. “Not much room here to lurk for ‘im anymore, yeah,” he smiled and watched Nellie for a second or two before he went back to his novel. “I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually.”

That, as it happens, was very probable. Tommy always made the point of joining these late night meetings at one point or another — since they made him absurdly jealous.

“How’s the car?” Alfie asked casually.

Just last week, Nellie turned eighteen — despite her father’s utter and complete disappointment at the realization he could very well control England, but still not the passage of time. Alfie decided to use the opportunity of his temporary self-pity to go behind his back and give Nellie a car for her birthday. Now, she could go anywhere, any time she wanted, with whomever she chose to. Tommy, as expected, was not very pleased.

“Excellent. Thank you,” Nellie said. “How’s the novel?”

“Ah, it’s a poem, actually. Already know how it ends, though,” Alfie sighed but kept on reading.

She took out her cigarettes then and lit one, just as her father entered the kitchen. He wasn’t dressed for business, Nellie noticed, but he was not entirely casual either, so he couldn’t have been sleeping. Then, she spotted two tiny droplets of blood on his collar, though otherwise there were no marks on his face or neck.  _ Ah.  _ So… This kind of business, then.

“Eleanor,” he said sternly, though she knew it was only an act since his eyes remained kind and even somewhat brighter than usual. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Alfie looked at him from behind his reading glasses and pointed to the chair in front of him with his pipe. “Aye, but we’re havin’ tea, aren’t we? Care to join, Tommy?”

Nellie got up to get her father a cup and he sat down with an exaggerated huff. She poured him some tea and wanted to get back to her cigarette but noticed it had already been snatched.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much,” Tommy said, as he took a lengthy drag out of it. Nellie looked at Alfie, immediately in mutual agreement that despite Tommy’s best efforts to hide it, he was apparently in a very good mood.

“Aye, why so cheerful, Tommy? Managed to off someone while I left ya alone for five damn minutes?”

Nellie cackled a bit at that and noticed her father was definitely up for the challenge that Alfie's just thrown him. She loved listening to them bickering. 

“Sabina called,” Tommy said then, taking another slow drag, his face entirely unreadable. “She requested a day off.” He looked at Alfie then and Nellie recognized the suggestion immediately.

“Oh my God, could you be any more obvious!” she groaned and took another cigarette from the pack. “Fine!” she exclaimed. “Have your night alone. I’ll go to Lottie’s.”

Alfie closed his book then and pointed towards her. “See whatcha did there, Tommy? You’re scaring the kid outta her own damn house!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, Sabina told me to give you her best,” Tommy said slyly, still determined to get what he wanted out of the implication of his previous statement. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Nellie mumbled with the cigarette in her mouth, as she lit the match. “Why I never caught you two at the Arrow House, I’ll never know, and it’s definitely not because you’re both masters of espionage, either!”

Alfie snorted at that while Tommy at least had the decency to blush a tiny bit.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of the house,” Tommy said calmly, though he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. 

“This house, I like. You chose well this time.”

Truth be told, Alfie was the one who finally managed to convince Tommy to sell the Arrow House. Nellie never knew how exactly, or rather she preferred not to know, thanks very much, but he did and she was incredibly grateful.

Sometime later, her father did find that smaller house they had talked about a year ago; with the stables and the one housekeeper that, to the surprise of no one, turned out to be an old acquaintance of Alfie’s. A sly move on the man’s part to be honest, since he more or less lived there with the two Shelbys most of the time. Thanks to Sabina, all of Alfie’s particularities about the said living were entirely accommodated. Nellie strongly suspected then that Alfie had been planning all of this from the very beginning; she wouldn’t put it past him.

“Well, Sabina said there was nothing she could do,” Tommy shrugged and put out the cigarette. “Her sister got sick.”

“She doesn’t have a sister,” Nellie lied smoothly. In truth, she had no way of knowing, but she liked the slight panic that flashed for a split of a second in her father’s eyes.

Alfie, entirely amused by the opportunity to watch his favorite person get teased a little bit, got up to make more tea. 

“She does, Nell, remember?” Tommy narrowed his eyes, while she fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“Goodness, I don’t know anymore! Alfie?”

“Nah, don’t even try to involve me in that,” Alfie gestured between her and Tommy.

Nellie chuckled at that and put out her cigarette, reaching for the tea. As it happens, Sabina turned out to be the best possible person to take care of the house — and this eclectic little family. Not only was she nothing like Frances, she also possessed the sort of patience for Tommy that nearly came close in its capacity to Nellie’s own. She adored Sabina for it and kept reminding her father that the woman was a saint to put up with them all. Then again, Tommy was happier now and that probably made it easier for Sabina not to quit after her very first week. It was an entirely different experience; living with a haunted and difficult Tommy Shelby versus one that had his demons so under control that after a while he stopped paying them any attention. 

What surprised Nellie most was that very few people noticed the change in him, perhaps with the obvious exception of her and Aunt Polly. Polly made a mistake to comment on it once and after that, Nellie noted the various concealments and invisibility charms that her father had mastered to put around his person, tripled in force. It made the girl want to tease him a little bit for it, since this time he was covering up his feelings for an entirely stupid reason. Not wanting people to see you were miserable was human; not wanting them to know you were finally happy was just very Tommy Shelby.

“I mean, we could always give Frances a call, I’m sure she would be thrilled to come back for however long it takes for Sabina’s sister to get better, hm?” Nellie said sweetly to her father and Alfie nearly choked on his tea. He glared at her then, with the look of an utmost betrayal, while Tommy laughed so brightly that listening to it almost felt like being in the sun.

Indeed, perhaps the greatest event of them all had been Frances getting fired. It all happened behind closed doors, of course, Tommy was nothing if not painfully professional. That never stopped Nellie or Alfie, though, from eavesdropping on their meeting like children. The conversation between Frances and Tommy lasted nearly an hour and throughout that time, both Nellie and Alfie managed to make up countless reasons to walk past or stop near the door to listen in.

“Oh, stop it!” Nellie nudged Alfie lightly. “You know I hate her even more than you do. Trust me,  _ you _ never really had to live with that creeper.”

“Aye, the fuck do I know what’s goin’ on in that head of yours, you’re almost as unpredictable as your father,” Alfie grumbled.

“More,” Tommy said at that, sipping his tea. “She’s a woman. They’re all witches.”

“Oh my God…” She rubbed her face with her hands. “See, we’re really not. You’re clearly prejudiced.”

“I don’t need to be prejudiced, look at your Aunt Polly.”

“Alright, that’s a bad example because Auntie Polly really  _ is  _ a witch.”

Alfie chuckled softly and shook his head. “Can confirm, yeah. The first time she met me, she almost snapped my neck in two with her glower alone.”

“See?” Nellie smiled at her father and he just shook his head. 

“You’re just defending her to throw me off, Alfie.”

“Not defending anyone, sweetie, that’s all just very rich coming from you, innit?”

“Oh?”

“Right, so seein’ as you’ve already found the love of your life and all, why the fuck do you care if women are witches or not?”

This time, it was Tommy who nearly choked on the tea. Entirely happy with himself, Alfie refilled everyone’s cups. There was a lot of truth in Alfie’s words, Nellie mused. Perhaps it has been love. Her father  _ was  _ actually enjoying his life for once. Throughout the past year, Nellie and him grew even closer than before — all thanks to the newly found openness between the two, and Alfie having been the grounding force in between them. Nellie finally felt like a daughter rather than a caretaker and even though it took her some time to finally give up the reins and let Alfie take over as Tommy’s partner, once she did — she felt like her own person at last.

There were still secrets between the two, granted, but none of them consequential. That is… with one major exception. Nellie still hasn't told her father what Alfie knew about her. And to her astonishment, the usually talkative man never slipped up once about it. He never mentioned it either, not unless she herself wanted to talk about it. She rarely did, though. She was still struggling.

“Aye, as much as I’d love to chat, yeah, some people here aren’t actually cats,” Alfie said then and got up with a grunt. “Don’t stay up till assfuck o’clock again, alright?” That last bit, Nellie was certain, was directed at both her and Tommy equally.

A thought crept into her mind then and nestled itself comfortably, as she watched Alfie tease her father about something now, making him laugh like she’s never seen him do before. They never kissed in front of her but for a second Alfie touched her father’s cheek and the way they looked at each other said it all. Then, Alfie went upstairs and the kitchen got comparably quiet. Still comfortable, but since this was just the two of them now, the communication had a different set of rules entirely.

Tommy closed his eyes for a second, not unlike a cat, holding an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Nellie watched him and slowly started to toy with the idea that perhaps it would not be the end of the world if he knew about her and Lottie. Perhaps, she could still be his daughter even then. After all, life was good now.

* * *

Of course, like father like daughter, first she had to torture the said idea to death in her head before she’d let it happen. Thankfully, the only person known to mankind that could tackle the neurosis of both Shelbys was currently staying with them both, keeping an eye on things. There would come a time, of course, for Alfie to go back to London — firstly because of the business, and secondly on the account of the general suspicion from the rest of the Shelby family surrounding the particular living arrangements of the three of them. For now, though, Alfie was here and Nellie had someone to talk to about the most difficult things. A rare comfort that she decided to make use of while it lasted.

“Alright there, darlin’?” Alfie greeted her as she entered the living room, where she knew he’d be at this time of day. It was an early evening and Alfie always wanted to be alone with his thoughts then. 

His enormous dog was at his side, snoring in front of the fireplace. Nellie said nothing at first, just taking in the image, which made Alfie look up from his book. She noticed it was the same one he was reading last night in the kitchen, and it looked like he was almost finished. She smiled at that and curled up in the armchair on the opposite side of the room. Alfie took his glasses off then and pointed them at Cyril:

“I strongly suspect, right, that Sabina’s overfeeding him,” he said. 

“She’s overfeeding all of us, Alfie,” Nellie said softly. She wanted to talk, but she just… needed a little help to find her words, first. Thankfully, he knew.

“Yeah? Tell that to your father, he barely graces us all with any human activities these days,” Alfie put down the book and the glasses and rubbed his face with his hands. “How the hell ‘ve you managed it all this time, luv?”

“What?” She frowned. 

“Thomas. Treats  _ you  _ like a child, right, meanwhile he’s out there somewhere at ungodly hours, makin’ his deals with the devil.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Only suspicious people meet up at seven, Nellie.”

“Or would you have just preferred he be making his deals with you?” she asked, deceptively innocently. 

Alfie chuckled slightly at that. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Stop doin’ that.”

“What?”

“The Shelby thing. Stop readin’ my goddamn mind.”

Nellie just snorted and shook her head. She moved to scratch Cyril behind the ears and the dog did not even move as she did that.

“Bloody hell, the most vigilant hound in all the country, ain’t he?” Alfie barked out a laugh. 

“He’s just tired of everybody’s nonsense, aren’t you, Cyril? Yes. What a good boy.” Nellie moved from the armchair and sat down on the carpet now, cross-legged. She pet Cyril gently and when he finally raised his head to look at her, his eyes were so accusatory she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry to wake you, boy,” Nellie said softly and retracted her hand. She looked at Alfie then and saw him watching her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, perceptive as always. 

She took a deep breath. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, come on. Must I always have a reason to talk to you?”

“Aww, look at you, sweetie, tryin’ to con the con artist,” Alfie laughed at her, though not unkindly. “Come. Spill. What’s wrong? Who should we kill?”

She tried not to smile at him. It was hard. 

“I want to tell him,” she said, very quietly. 

Alfie said nothing at that, this time playing Nellie’s own silent game with her. He picked up quickly on things, she liked that about him. 

“I will talk to… to Lottie first,” she finally said, after a moment. “But I want him to know. I think.”

“Alright,” Alfie decided. “I’ll go back to London earlier.”

“That’s…” She frowned. “You won’t be here?” 

Nellie let herself be a bit vulnerable because she knew that she could. There has never been any intention in the man to use her own secrets against her. At this point, he was like her second parent.

“Do you… want me to be here? For that?” He seemed as perplexed as her, before she shook her head and groaned in exasperation at him.

“Of course I do,” she said. “Who’s gonna stand between us, when he inevitably misunderstands the entire thing and decides to murder me on the spot?”

Alfie chuckled at that. “He won’t.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“Ah, I kinda am, yeah.”

She gave him a panicked look and he raised his hands. “Ah, relax. Never said a word. But he ain’t stupid, Nell. He’s observant as all fuck, alright? And he is your father, so… nah, don’t think he will be murderin’ us for that.”

“Us?” she arched one eyebrow. 

“Aye, you don’t think I’d let anyone come for you, luv? But he’s faster and angrier so he’d probably do us both in, easily.”

She laughed at that and shook her head again, resigned and excited at the same time. 

“Talk to her first,” Alfie offered. “But there’s nothin’ that silly boy loves in this world more than you.”

“Not even horses!” she faked astonishment and Alfie barked out a laugh, waking up very disgruntled Cyril once more. 

“Aye, I’d venture a thought, right, that he wouldn’t buy some fancy stables even if his horses asked real nice for it.” Alfie looked at Nellie pointedly, gesturing wildly around them. 

She frowned. “He didn’t buy the Arrow House for me, though.”

Alfie chuckled at seeing her concentrate so much. “Yeah, in a way. Part of the business, part of the trade.”

“What?”

He waved his hand and shook his head, as if saying it was not important. But it was. She has had enough people dismissing her in her life and she really didn’t want Alfie to do it, too. 

“He wanted to prove something with that house,” she said, slowly. 

“Maybe. But mostly, right, it was bloody obscured. And a downright monstrosity. And nobody would look at it and go,  _ Ah yes, I think that poor murderous bastard Tommy Shelby definitely lives here with his secret daughter, the prick. _ ”

Nellie laughed out loud and then covered her face with her hands, groaning a little. “How… do you even know that?”

“Part of the business, part of the trade,” he repeated, this time a little less light-heartedly. 

She shook her head. “But this here is your home, too.”

Alfie stayed silent for a moment before he spoke again. “Nah. This can never be my home. But I love visitin’ ya. Would stay if I could.”

Nellie decided not to press him. Deep down inside, she knew he was right. This strange family of three could never be real outside these walls. She thought about something else very intently before she said:

“You know, he absolutely would.”

“What?”

“He would buy fancier stables if his horses asked him for it. He’d have talking horses then, he would’ve been the richest person alive!”

Alfie laughed so hard at that that Cyril finally stood up and went to the kitchen, obviously wanting to seek comfort in food. These two traitors wouldn’t let him catch a wink, but perhaps the third one would take pity and feed him.

* * *

Since it has already been decided that Tommy wanted the house to himself for tonight, it was an easy decision and an even easier task for Nellie to convince Lottie to let her stay the night at hers. It was a short drive from the new house, since Lottie didn’t live in the city anymore. Two months ago or so, her and Fred married and her father, ever the generous and doting man, had bought them a house. 

Officially, as the best friend, Nellie had of course received the invitation for the wedding. At first, she didn’t want to go but Alfie insisted she should. As always, he was right. She felt better being there, and so did Lottie. After all, this was an unusual relationship between the two of them, and Fred as the third concerned party. Fred knew about them and since he himself had a man he was seeing, there was nothing really to speak of. Everyone knew their place, everyone had their script. 

_ And yet… _

Nellie couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied. Granted, she had big feelings for Lottie now. She thought she even loved her and on some level, Lottie certainly loved her, too. But at the same time, Lottie had a role to play and two families to fool. Nellie didn’t have to do any of that — even with her father still in the dark about the whole thing, she had Alfie to talk to. And neither her uncles nor her aunts were ever the intruding types when it came to Nellie, since for most of her life her mind’s been like a fortress. Sure, they meddled a bit, but she was her father’s daughter — if she didn’t want them to know something, they never would. They also realized she was entirely capable of living her own life, now more than ever, so they mostly left her to her own devices. 

But then... why couldn’t she stop feeling so goddamn empty inside?

Nellie reached Lottie’s new mansion in less than thirty minutes. Of course, she was rushing. She couldn’t wait to see her. 

“Hi, sugar!” Lottie greeted her in the driveway and hugged her tightly as soon as Nellie got out of the car. “Oh, leave the car, Henry will park it later.”

Nellie wanted to kiss her here and there but knew she couldn’t. The mansion was swarming with staff. The house itself was nice, picturesque even, but in some ways still like the Arrow House so they had to be careful. They went inside and Lottie immediately started talking to her about the new car she was thinking of buying for Fred. Nellie listened, but mostly thought of kissing Lottie and holding her close.

Then again, she was also preoccupied with planning on talking to Lottie about sharing their secret with Tommy. After all, she needed Lottie’s consent for that — Alfie was entirely right about this, too. So she listened and planned for now, and gave her opinion about cars where it was needed somewhere in between. They both made their way to the living room and Lottie called for tea. She never stopped talking, but she did put her arm around Nellie as they both sat down on the sofa. Nellie patiently waited for her moment and for now just enjoyed the closeness.

As it turns out, the moment wouldn’t come very fast. Lottie had much to share and Nellie didn’t want to interrupt her. They haven’t seen each other in about a week, with Lottie’s new responsibilities as the wife and the lady of the house. Even though most of it was a skillful pretend, Lottie was nothing if not professional in everything she did.

“Lottie,” Nellie said finally, after she noticed that everything that Lottie had been keeping bottled up since their last meeting had been shared.

“What is it, honey?” She was sitting now on the opposite end of the sofa, resting her legs on Nellie’s lap and sipping her tea from a fancy cup.

“I wanted to ask you,” Nellie cleared her throat. How could she even begin? She certainly didn’t want to mention Alfie; Lottie didn’t know the truth about him and even though she had asked about it once or twice, Nellie never let on more than strictly necessary. This was her father’s business and she would never betray his secrets.

“Hey, what is it?” Lottie immediately realised it was something serious and Nellie managed a nervous smile as she took Lottie’s hand in hers.

“I, uh… I wanted to talk to my father. About… About us.”

_ There.  _

She looked at Lottie expectantly, as the young woman’s face grew more shocked with each passing second.

“What?” Lottie asked, half-surprised and half-angry. “What the hell for?”

“I want him to know.”

“Oh, holy fucking Jesus…” Lottie huffed. She put down her tea, then scooted closer to her girlfriend and took both her hands in hers. “Nell,” she said seriously, “you know I love you, right? And I have your best interest at heart, you know that?”

“Yeah, of course I know that,” she said quietly. She wasn't exactly prepared for an enthusiastic reaction, so it was all more or less still going according to plan.

“And… we’re friends. First and foremost, we are friends. And… I’ve known you for a long time, I know you sometimes get these ideas, and I would never question your intentions, sugar, alright? But this isn’t like you, honey, this is fucking dumb!”

Nellie chuckled softly and shook her head. Fine, Lottie was right to think so, especially since Nellie wouldn’t share the whole story with her. How could she tell her about her father without telling her the whole truth about him? It would definitely help, but Nellie could never do that. Her loyalty towards him and towards the family always came first. Even with Lottie. She’d have to try another angle.

“I promise you, he’ll be fine,” Nellie said. 

“Oh, sure!” Lottie grimaced. “Sure, just like he was entirely fine with you going out with friends, to have some fun and  _ dance! _ Just like he’s been fine ever since I met you at sixteen, sad and lonely, and devoted to managing his insane fucking moods like a goddamn servant!”

Nellie didn’t like her tone but still remained calm, letting Lottie vent. She knew Lottie didn’t like her father one bit and she was fine with that, though to some extent. After all, Lottie didn’t really know him. But this… this reaction, she would’ve never expected that from someone who claimed that they loved her. Nellie thought they were both past Lottie’s hatred towards him. Apparently, though, Lottie was still convinced Nellie needed to be saved.

“But that was then,” Nellie said calmly, still trying to be reasonable, “and this is now. We talk now.”

“Oh, fuck!” Lottie let go of her hands and stood up to pour herself a drink from the nearby liquor cabinet. She didn’t offer her girlfriend one and she didn’t ask.

“Honey, I love you. But you’re goddamn naive,” Lottie said and then downed a generous amount of whisky, before pouring herself another one. “And your crazy fucking father is definitely not a doting, happy daddy, deep down inside. I do hope you know that?”

Nellie winced at that a bit, unprepared for the harshness in these words. What did Lottie mean by that, exactly? That Tommy wasn’t like her father? Well, of course he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been, nobody gave him that opportunity. For one, he came from Small Heath, most of the family did. Then, he basically died in France and returned a changed man. He was Roma and came from poverty, meanwhile, Lottie was born to a life of luxury. She had spent the entirety of the war safely in New York, while Nellie still remembered how it felt to miss her father so terribly and not believing Aunt Polly even for a second when she kept telling her, day after day, he would get home safe. Then, somebody had come home all right, but it took Nellie a while to recognize that man again.

Nellie also vividly remembered how it felt to catch lice and bathe every two weeks in ice cold water. She knew all that. And she knew Lottie knew. Nellie just never suspected her girlfriend of judging her for it. Perhaps Nellie has been wrong about many things, after all.

“You don’t know him,” Nellie said finally, voice a bit sharper than usual. Lottie must have seen something in her eyes then because she paused instead of speaking her mind immediately. 

“Holy shit, there it is. Those fucking Tommy Shelby eyes,” Lottie said quietly and drank more whisky. She poured herself a third drink and watched Nellie watching her. “What?”

Nellie said nothing. She took out a cigarette and lit it and Lottie huffed in annoyance. 

“Of course,” she muttered to herself before pacing a bit around the room. “This fucking family, they fucked you up, honey, and you don’t even know it! You don’t even talk, you just smoke dramatically and push people until they can bend no fucking more!”

“When have I ever pushed you, personally? Because I have a feeling you’re not talking about me here,” Nellie said, still sharp, and now more cautious than ever. She was fine with Lottie being blunt with her. Lottie was painfully honest and she accepted that; sometimes she even liked it. But this type of honesty, this... Nellie has never experienced that from Lottie before. 

Nellie couldn’t figure out if it was some sort of pent-up frustration with her on Lottie’s part, or if it was just the idea of their secret being known. Nellie was entirely fine with keeping quiet to be honest, but it seemed like Lottie’s mood and words were something more than that. The only other thing could’ve been the business… The entire country probably knew about the rapid Shelby Company Limited’s expansion — was she talking about that, then?

Nellie was angry with herself that she couldn’t think clearly; but, after all, feelings were involved here. This caused her to be unable to judge the situation as precisely as she would have wanted to.

“Alright, then tell me! Tell me what the fuck does he tell you these days, because you don’t even sound like yourself anymore. Go on.” Lottie was shouting now and Nellie honestly didn’t know how to react to that. She was never very capable of defending herself when people raised their voice at her. Despite some similarities, she was never as fearless as Tommy.

“We talk about… Normal things, really. But it’s not important anymore, alright? I won’t tell him.”

“Jesus, fuck.”

“What?”

“You talk to me and you don’t even sound like you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been secretive! You don’t… tell me things! And then, I don’t see you for a week and you come and just drop this fucking bomb on my head! Did he put you up to this? Oh my God, does he already know?!”

“Well, I’d say I just told you shit like you wanted me to and look what fucking happened,” Nellie finally barked at her girlfriend but regretted it immediately. “Lottie, please… It was dumb, you’re right. I’m sorry. Alright? I’m sorry.” She was almost pleading with Lottie now and this caused her to calm down a bit but Nellie could see she was still angry. Lottie sipped the whisky slowly now, looking out the window.

“Fuck,” she muttered, more to herself than to Nellie. “Sometimes I forget how young you really are.”

It was fair, Nellie was younger, but only by a couple of years. Meanwhile, Lottie made it sound like there were decades between them. Nellie never liked people underestimating her. Despite appearances, her youth was more or less an illusion. She knew life; perhaps not every aspect of it but she still liked to think she had a solid grasp on things.

“I won’t tell him, he doesn’t know, I promise,” she repeated. Nellie realized she never took one drag of that cigarette, now it was just burning in between her fingers. She put it out then and stood up to come closer to Lottie. “Hey,” she tried to grab her hand but she turned around, still deep in her thoughts. She looked sad now and Nellie desperately wanted to make things right.

“Please, Lottie, I won’t. I promise you.”

“Yeah, but you wanted to,” she said quietly now, her voice almost a whisper. “And I don’t think you realize what damage that could’ve caused, Nellie.”

“He would never hurt you,” she said sternly and Lottie let out a hollow, humorless laugh.

“Oh my God… you really believe that!” She looked at her now and shook her head. Nellie didn’t like that look, not one bit. “Nell, he would probably kill me. And Fred. And my father! Then he’d burn his business to the ground, most likely!”

“What the fuck, do you really think that?” she asked quietly and then Lottie laughed the same way once more. 

“Nellie, you  _ do know  _ who your father really is, I hope?”

Of course she knew. And she knew everyone did, too. But this was just one version of things. Lottie didn’t know the real him like Nellie did, in fact nobody in the entire world could probably say that they knew him like that. Nellie wasn't about to tell her this, though. First of all, it felt like a betrayal, but also… She realized Lottie didn’t understand the  _ why  _ behind the  _ who.  _ There were reasons for Tommy being like that; there were good reasons for him to do what he did. Lottie didn’t get that and perhaps she never would. But then there was the matter of her thinking those things about Tommy still, Nellie’s family, and ultimately it struck Nellie that perhaps Lottie thought the same about her, too. That realization suddenly made all the difference.

Nellie couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Without a word she was out the door and nearly ran towards the garage where Henry had just parked the car. She said nothing to him, she got out of there so quickly she nearly ran him over, then reversed as Lottie ran out to the driveway and, pretending not to hear her shouting behind her, Nellie just took off. If Lottie really thought those things about Nellie as a Shelby, then fine. She’d get a fucking Shelby, all right.

Nellie drove and prayed nobody would get in her way because honest to God, she would run them over and wouldn’t even blink. Still, while there was some residual regret tugging at her heart the entire way back home, she remained eerily calm. It almost scared her. She thought she was going to cry but she didn’t. She felt betrayed and that, more than anything, made her angry. It was a scary thing to feel, as it made her wonder if perhaps there wasn’t some truth to Lottie’s words. Perhaps that family  _ did  _ fuck Nellie up; just not in the way she had expected. 

Nellie wished she could talk to her Aunt Polly now. Her aunt’s intellect always impressed her and she usually gave the wisest advice. Nellie knew it was late, though, and she didn’t know if she had it in her to drive any longer, before the sadness would ultimately come and take over. She knew it might and so she went straight back home. She had promised her father the house, though, and so now she just wished that her naive notion of him suddenly prioritizing his daughter wasn’t just a fantasy and a lie she’s managed to make herself believe.

Nellie made sure to make as much noise as possible when she entered the main hall. First of all, she still wasn't sad. She was growing angrier by the minute. The second thing was, she obviously wanted her father and Alfie to know she was here. Even if they stayed upstairs and pretended she didn’t exist, she felt like she at least owed them a warning. 

She didn’t even take her coat off. Having slammed all doors behind her and ultimately driving Cyril into a barking frenzy, Nellie entered the living room and switched all the lights on. She went straight for the liquor cabinet and took the first thing she saw, before pouring herself a drink. She looked at it then and since it was whisky, it reminded her of the whole Lottie situation once more. She screamed then and smashed the glass against the wall, observing with satisfaction as the glass and the whisky shattered in all directions. It helped, for a second. She took another glass then and quickly smashed it alongside the other. Then another. And another. She went through an entire set and almost started flinging bottles but then:

“Nell…” 

She heard her father’s voice behind her and nearly jumped. Only then did she notice that Cyril must have settled down, because the only thing she could hear right now was her own heart thumping. She couldn’t look at her father. She took a swig right out the nearest bottle of whisky and looked back at the mess she had just made. It felt  _ fucking good.  _

Her father approached Nellie instead, mindful of the glass, and she closed her eyes for a second, fully expecting another talking down of the night. What she didn’t expect, though, was him putting his arms around her and then gently taking the whisky from her hand. He set it aside on the nearby coffee table and then pulled his daughter into a tight hug. She let him and buried her face in his shirt, embracing him closely. 

Then, the tears came. 

Nellie cried for the longest time. It felt like hours. He never let go of her, though. He was stroking her hair and her back, saying nothing. It made her cry even more. The sadness overwhelmed her and his reaction — the complete acceptance, no questions asked — confirmed that while hard, choosing her family has ultimately always been the smartest choice. After the longest time, she finally calmed down and by then, she had no more tears left to cry. She felt empty and exhausted, her head was throbbing and her throat clenched so hard it felt like an illness.

Tommy moved away then slowly and placed both hands on Nellie’s shoulders; a grounding force holding her in place and stopping her head from spinning. She sniffled, couldn’t help it, and he dried her face with his shirt sleeve. She noticed that it was unbuttoned and the trousers didn’t match. Yeah, she definitely interrupted his night. He was also barefoot and she immediately thought about all the shattered glass surrounding them. 

Nellie spoke then, at the same time as he did:

“I’m sorry.” 

“Who did that to you?”

She looked into his eyes and shook her head, realizing two things. First, Lottie was entirely wrong about him, and second… Well, the second was harder.

“I can’t tell you,” she said very quietly and noticed his eyes change. They were darker now and full of anger, though she realized none of it was directed at her. 

“Who?” he repeated, squeezing her shoulders a bit tighter. She didn’t mind, though. It kept her calm. She closed her eyes then and shook her head again.

“No one,” she said.

“I need a name,” he barked. “What the hell happened, Nell? Were you attacked, are you hurt? Was it Lottie’s husband, what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” she repeated with her eyes closed but then felt more tears coming. All she wanted was to bury her face in his shirt again and cry it out, but she knew it would be impossible now. He was already planning his vengeance in her name and while it only reassured Nellie in her opinion that indeed, he would stop at nothing to protect her, it also made her panic.

She dared a quick glance behind her father’s shoulder and to her utter surprise, saw Alfie. Nellie pressed her lips together and then spiralled even more once she saw the look on his face. It was guilt. 

“Alfie,” she said quietly and this was when her father let go of her and turned around.

“Go back upstairs,” Tommy said, chillingly calm. Nellie didn’t want Alfie to go, though. She grabbed her father’s hand and, feeling bizarrely brave or perhaps uncharacteristically foolish, she said:

“It was Lottie.”

“Ah, fuck,” Alfie said at the same time as Tommy turned around and said:

“What?”

Nellie took a deep breath and squeezed his hand tighter. 

“Lottie and me… we,” she cleared her throat. “We were like you.” She nodded towards Alfie. 

Tommy was entirely too shocked to hold her now, and so she let go of him. She hanged her head a little bit and bit her lower lip. What now?

“And you knew about this?” Tommy looked at Alfie then and the other man grunted something, before coming closer towards the two. 

Glass crunched underneath his shoes. Nellie noticed Alfie was fully dressed and perhaps had already planned to leave for London after all, when he heard the whole thing. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. If he leaves now, she will lose it entirely, this much she knew.

“Tom, don’t think that’s the point, now is it?” Alfie said, trying to reason with the other man. Nellie knew there would be no reasoning. First of all, her father never minded secrets. What he hated was being the only one in the dark about them. Second of all… she couldn’t figure out still if perhaps she hadn’t been wrong all this time. Perhaps he would never accept her, which broke her heart even more.

“Why did you say you  _ were _ , what—” her father said, then stopped himself. He looked back at Nellie for the longest time but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Finally, he turned to Alfie. “I’m gonna have to kill her,” he announced, as one would when announcing something entirely mundane.

Nellie wasn't sure if he was joking or not, and if the “her” was her or Lottie. Then, she noticed Alfie taking off his rings and she frowned. 

“Alright,” Alfie said, now visibly aggravated as he put them one by one in his coat pocket. “Imma slap ya just this once, Tommy, just to let ya know how fuckin’ stupid you’re acting right now, yeah?”

Nellie snorted at that a little bit and both of them turned towards her immediately. She groaned and rubbed her face with her hands. She still couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

“Fuck,” she said quietly and took off her coat. She threw it on the nearby armchair but took out the cigarette pack and the matches from the side pocket.

They both watched Nellie as she walked over the broken glass, crushing it underneath her boots. She picked up the bottle of whisky and sat down on the sofa. She closed her eyes and reclined back, taking a large gulp. It burned her throat and made everything feel worse but at the same time, it somehow made it better, too. She decided if her father wanted to kill her or throw her out, then at least he could do it all while she was sedated. She didn’t want to feel so raw anymore; she wanted to stop feeling so goddamn much.

“Nell,” she heard Tommy then and opened one eye. “What happened?” he repeated, but entirely calm now. His eyes were back to being concerned. She sighed and shook her head.

“Alright, it’s pretty obvious, ya twat,” Alfie said then, “she got her heart broken, right? So stop bein’ fuckin’ weird with the kid, you’re one scary motherfucker when you want to be, but this here, right, Tommy, this isn’t the moment for that shit.”

Nellie chuckled at that and took another swig, then closed her eyes. Alright. Perhaps… perhaps her father wouldn’t kill her. She still allowed herself some optimism. She felt the sofa give in a little bit on the side there and then felt her father’s arm around her.

“I’m not, uh…” he said and she opened her eyes, looking him in the eye for the first time in forever. From the corner of her eye, she still saw Alfie watching them both closely, with his arms crossed over his chest. “I suspected,” Tommy said after a minute and Nellie huffed in annoyance.

“No, you didn’t,” she said.

He chuckled at his daughter’s stubbornness and shook his head lightly. “You’re not as clever as you think you are.”

“Ouch!” she exclaimed but smiled lightly. “Way to kick me when I’m down.”

Alfie relaxed then, seeing them talking normally again, or at least as normal as two Shelbys could. Nellie noticed that suddenly he seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to go. She outstretched her hand towards him and, begrudgingly, he sat down on her other side. 

“Alright, well. This is fuckin’ happening, then, innit…”

“I’m afraid so,” she muttered, then laid back a bit. Her father took out the bottle from her hand and took a swig himself before passing it to Alfie. 

“You’re joking, mate?” Alfie said then, outraged. Nellie giggled and noticed then that Alfie smiled at her, too. She took the bottle instead and Tommy let her.

“So,” she said. “The thing is… I wanted to ask her for her permission to tell you about us.” She looked at her father and he nodded slightly. “Right, so… it didn’t go so well.”

“I noticed.”

“No talkin’ from you, mate! Let the kid speak for once in her life.”

Nellie chuckled at that exchange again and her father just shook his head, taking the bottle from her and taking a swig once more. 

“So,” she continued, “she reacted badly. But not… it was not about the things I expected. She said some… other things,” she hesitated. Tommy could still threaten to kill her, she knew he very well would, “some things about you.” She looked at him carefully. “And me. And the family, the business, she basically called us all murderers…”

“Him?” Tommy pointed at Alfie and the other man just rolled his eyes.

“No, come on,” Nellie said. “I would never… I mean, nobody knows.”

“Tom,” Alfie barked at him now and Nellie could swear she heard her father mutter “sorry” right then and there, but obviously she couldn’t have because… well, this just wasn’t done, alright? This could never have happened. Must have been the whisky.

“Point is,” she said and lit a cigarette, pausing for a second because the whisky finally started to work and she finally calmed down. They waited for her now and she took a long drag, looking at the ceiling. “Well, point is she broke my fuckin’ heart with that talk. And she didn’t even have to work very hard to do that. So. That’s that.”

Nellie smoked in silence and tried not to pay attention to the wordless conversation going on between her father and, well… her other father.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Tommy said again and stood up, but then Alfie reached around Nellie and slammed the other man back onto the sofa. 

“Sit the fuck down, you clown, you’ll do no such thing!”

Nellie smiled at that because this, well, whatever  _ this  _ was, it genuinely managed to make her feel a little better. 

“Thing is,” she said again, slowly, eyes still on the ceiling. “She said some stuff about this family and I realized she understands fuckin’ nothing…”

“Like what?” Alfie asked then and Nellie noticed her father giving him the finger. Alfie dismissed that, though, with the wave of his hand.

“I mean, the thing about… what we do, I mean, mostly you do. You, specifically,” she turned towards Tommy and sighed. Then, the words just came to her and she realized there was no stopping them now: 

“Let’s pretend for five seconds we’re talking openly about this, right? It’ll just be easier.” She took another drag, still looking up. “You don’t have to say anything. But I know exactly what you do, what you had to do, and what needed to be done for us to get anywhere. It’s… it’s business, alright? We don’t have to talk about it, we both already know. I just didn’t actually  _ know  _ how much you thought I knew. So let’s pretend for a second that you’re letting me talk about this. Because this conversation never happened.” Nellie took another swig of whisky for courage, which she knew would have to be her last if she wanted to utter any other words with any sort of coherence in the nearest future. 

Tommy watched her intently now and she knew she had his, as well as Alfie’s, full attention. “What I mean is, I still remember what it feels like to get lice. I remember being hungry. I remember the… the fuckin’ humiliation of it all, alright? But Lottie doesn’t because she never had to. And so, her judging me, and judging you, and judging us, and telling  _ me  _ who  _ you _ are is just so fucking rich, man.” She shook her head and lit another cigarette immediately after the first one had to be stubbed out. 

Neither her father, nor Alfie, interrupted her once, and so she decided to keep talking, as this might have been the only chance in her life to speak to her father as she normally would to any other person that she could actually open up her heart to. Up until that point, that person had been Lottie, but that apparently ended with a bang:

“So, I don’t give a shit about the business or where the money comes from, because the money doesn’t fucking matter, right, what I mean is… money is her entire existence. But it’s not mine, I’m Nellie Shelby and that is my fucking existence. She… doesn’t understand that the most important thing for me is to be here, to know what you think,” she looked at Tommy now, for emphasis, “and for you to know what I think. Because I’m your fucking heir, as shitty as that sounds, my legacy is not this fucking house, it’s not the fucking tracks, it’s not the wealth. It’s dark and twisted and fucked up, but this is what it is. The money’s borrowed.” She frowned. “Sort of. But I feel like we borrowed that from… God. Or someone. And yes, we have nice things, we have food, but if someone took that away from me? Fuck it.” She let out the smoke out her nose and shook her head. “But if someone took the both of you, I wouldn’t… Jesus, what am I even saying? Can you please interrupt me now? I’m ready to be interrupted.”

Nobody spoke, though. It felt as if Nellie’s words still hung there in the air, burned out on the walls in big, ardent lines.

“That…” Alfie said something but apparently decided against following through. 

She felt like a fool now and hoped that somebody said something quickly, before she crumbled to pieces. Nobody spoke but after a good minute Tommy pulled his daughter close, then kissed her forehead and the top of her head, stroking her back again and murmuring soothing words in the language he knew very well she couldn’t understand.

“It’ll be alright, luv,” Alfie offered and patted her on the shoulder, clearing his throat. “I’ll teach ya how to shoot.”

She laughed at that quietly and finally dared to embrace her father properly. 

“You will do no such thing,” Tommy said coldly.

“Nah, look at her. That… was some fuckin’ speech. Junior’s gonna make an incredible addition to the business.”

“You will do no such thing,” Tommy repeated, “because you’re a fucking disaster with guns.  _ I  _ will teach her.”

“Oi!”

“Don’t argue with me, you shot  _ me  _ once!”

“Aye, but that was an accident, though, wasn’t it,” Alfie grumbled, sounding a bit flustered. Nellie laughed now in earnest but still didn’t want to let go. Her father was not very affectionate by nature, so she decided to bask in his attention while it lasted.

“You alright?” he asked her softly then and she nodded. 

There was nothing left to say, she decided. She already said too much.

“Ah, I’m…” she wanted to apologise for a second but decided against it. She was tired of the feeling. “I don’t know what to do. Or say.” She sat back properly and both men watched her carefully, with identical expressions of bewilderment.

“I propose,” Alfie said then, taking a sip of whisky to the utter astonishment of everyone. “Yeah, I propose we discuss the great romantic notions of the ancient Greece, see, I’ve been reading a bit, and seein’ as I’m the only one here doing that, feel free to interrupt if I’m goin’ too fast for ya—”

“Alfie.”

“No, no, wait,” Nellie put her hand on Tommy’s shoulder and he shook his head. He took her hand in his instead. She squeezed tightly and he did the same. She closed her eyes again, now entirely relieved. 

“Right, as I was sayin’ before getting interrupted by some cunt,” Alfie took another swig, leaving them both no less surprised than before, “there was a concept in  _ Iliad,  _ right, the great concept of the Trojan horse. Now, might seem entirely outdated, mate, how-fuckin’-ever, seein’ as you’re both entirely unreasonably excited about horses, once you compare the notion to the ever-approaching fact of our American friends coming here soon all the way from New York to hang us all by the balls… Now, that would be the moment to use such knowledge against them, is what I’m sayin’.”

Silence fell between them. Then, Tommy took the bottle from Alfie and drank some more. Nellie was still mulling the information in her head, feeling like she understood very little. Tommy, however, seemed to have possessed a supernatural cognition when it came to one Alfie Solomons and his brilliant, though entirely odd mind.

“Are you suggesting…”

“Aye, now call me crazy, Tommy, right, but I dare say this would be too good an opportunity to walk out on.”

“You’re joking. The Changretta’s will never treat us seriously if we do that.”

“Nah, they’re from New York, Tommy, think about it, sweetie, we’re already miles apart. And now, our kid here, right, she’s that live grenade we’ve been lookin’ for, mate.”

“Oh my God, are you still not over that one!”

“Nah, that was some good bluff, calm down, darlin’.”

“But you’re still mad at me for it.”

“Fuck almighty, I forgive ya for the grenade, alright? Focus!”

Their conversation held way more mystery than information for Nellie’s liking, but from the bits she has managed to piece together, it really looked like they were considering introducing her to the business for real. This time, she not only felt ready — she wanted it. Not like her cousin Michael, perhaps, she didn't  _ crave it  _ in the way that she knew he did. Nellie felt it in her bones, though, felt it in all the blood rushing back to her head. She lit another cigarette, now entirely calm and back to her old self. Perhaps she could mold this heartache into something else, after all.

“She did well that time in the bakery, didn’t she?”

“Fuck, Tommy, ‘course she did! Bloody hell, she’s basically you but prettier, eh?”

“You fucking Judas,” Tommy hissed and his daughter giggled. They looked at her now, as if surprised to see her. They must have been entirely in their own world there for a second, she realized. 

“Alright, let’s do this,” she said then and took a long drag out of her cigarette, looking from one father to the other. “Let’s take down the Americans. As a family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... She's Tommy Shelby's daughter, right? We didn't really think she'd be domestic, come on. She's destined for epic shit and heartbreak. But at least she has her crazy dads that'll protect her no matter what <3

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped feeling the Reader character so now it's an OC Shelby, hope you like her all the same. I think she's a badass!


End file.
